


we were in screaming color

by quisinart4



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Smut, can't get these two out of my head and needed a place to put the fic, just another drabble collection joining the field
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-06-11 11:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15314700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quisinart4/pseuds/quisinart4
Summary: Drabble collection featuring Mike/Ginny. Better late than never! Mostly established relationship fluff because they deserve the happy ending we never got to see.





	1. 2018 by the pool

**Author's Note:**

> I'm two years too late but I had another marathon and still can't get these two out of my head, so I figured I'd start a drabble collection for snapshots written while the muse is in overdrive. Please comment if you read! It's encouraging to know people are still reading and enjoying a couple from a cancelled show. :'( 
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's "Out of the Woods". FYI these may be explicit because I can’t help it that they’re so attractive together. 
> 
> Churned this out in an hour and a half at two in the morning when I woke up to use the restroom. That's what these two have done to me. You can take [this bikini top](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/9b/85/5b/9b855b58b184b47ba50c4c8bd4d496e3--pitch-tv-hottest-pic.jpg) Kylie's wearing and imagine matching bottoms.

"Baker."

"Baker."

"GINNY!"

She finally opens her eyes and moves aside her headphones when she sees him in her line of vision with his mouth moving.

"What?"

Mike huffs out a breath, arms crossed and eyeing her up and down. That bathing suit is really something, a vibrant aqua halter bikini top that showcases her body, accentuates her curves, the bottoms riding low on her hips.

"I'm back.

"Okay," she replies back slowly.

He rolls his eyes. "Wanna help me put away the groceries?"

"Not particularly," she says, stretching out her long legs, doing a little stretch that makes her breasts move in a way that leaves him swallowing.

"You know, you've really got this lady of the manor routine down," he tells her. "I mean, you've got me shopping for groceries, cookin' for you, cleaning-"

"You don't clean, you have Rosa for that!"

He ignores her and continues ticking items off using his fingers to keep count. "You leave your shit everywhere, lay around the pool all day-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was unwelcome here," she retorts back, but she knows he's teasing so there's nothing but humor in her voice. "I have a pool at my apartment, I can go." She gets up, pretends to move past him and he blocks her path, throwing an arm around her neck and pulling her close.

"I didn't say that.” He drops a kiss in her hair to assure her that’s not what he meant at all, then kisses her again just because he can. “But I am saying help me in the kitchen so I don't feel like a kept man."

"You _are_ a kept man," she teases, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning up to nuzzle at his cheek. "And you're the one who wanted to make dinner. I said takeout."

"You eat way too much takeout," he mutters, shaking his head at her as they escape the sunshine and enter the kitchen. "How the fuck do you still look like this?" He manages to run a hand down her back and over the curve of her ass before she darts away towards the groceries sitting on the counter.

"It's called exercise, Lawson, you should try it sometime."

"I'm retired, Baker, leave me alone for a couple weeks. I just fucking won a World Series."

And they both grin again when they hear it like that, out loud in his kitchen, remembering the last few weeks of interviews and press tours and parades and meeting the mayor and signing so much Padres memorabilia, and that perfect game of baseball that put them on top of the world.

"Yeah, we did," she says with a dreamy sigh.

Together they put away the groceries quickly, and Mike can't help but notice how she knows where everything goes. Milk in the top shelf of the fridge where it's coldest, avocados in the fruit basket to ripen, her favorite chocolate chip cookies in the pantry (she smiles softly when she finds those), grape soda in the fridge door because that's the only damn spot he'll give it in the house.

"Yay! We were out," she says with a grin.

"Not 'we', Baker, you're the only one who drinks that garbage," he comments but silently he can't help but marvel at how it all feels like a couple's domestic routine even if they're not living together.

To be fair, she's only spent about ten nights at her place since the season ended, and that was mostly because they may have had press stuff early in the morning and her stylist was gonna meet her there, or if she happened to fall asleep when going back to grab more clothes. Oh, and that night she went out partying with Cara, he didn’t see her until the next day, her oversized Ray-Bans on to mask the hangover. He tried to ignore the disappointment he’d felt when she’d been gone all night, but he had already gotten used to having her around. Mike wonders when it'd be okay to ask her to move in. This feels way too soon. She probably wants some space before getting serious so fast. But god, it already _feels_ so serious. He wouldn't mind giving her a key tonight- doesn't even know _how_ he would do such a thing as not to scare her away-

"Okay, done! Now, can I _please_ go out and play?" Ginny sidles up to him, wraps her arms around his neck, leaning in close so her mouth is almost right at his own, her body draped all over his so he has no choice but to reach out and grab on to that delicious still-warm-from-the-sun skin.

Mike rolls his eyes at the joke, his hands gently rubbing at her lower back, knowing exactly where the dimples are there that he loves to stare at while he pounds into her from behind. He has to swallow and fight back the memory as it tries to assault his senses and his cock at four o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

"Come sit by the pool with me," Ginny says, grabbing his hand and pulling him outside before he can even answer. "I'll put sunscreen on you."

"Baker, I gotta start dinner-" he argues, even as he follows her because wow, the view she's providing as she leads him outside? That's not one he'll argue with.

She chuckles at his excuse, throwing a fond look back over her shoulder. "Gosh, you're so cute. Come on, it can wait another hour. I want some sun."

When she pushes him down onto the chaise and yanks off his t-shirt, who is to complain? She winks at him as she grabs the sunscreen, getting a generous amount on both hands and grinning wickedly as she makes him jump when she starts running her hands over his chest.

"Jeez, warn a guy would you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, FYI, it's cold, you big baby. Can't have you burn on me."

"I'm already burning, I'm so fucking hot," he mutters under his breath, a lame joke more to distract himself from the way she's carefully applying sunscreen to every inch of his bare chest. His shoulders, pecs, abdomen, then another helping to cover his arms, and his back. Her hands are warm, fingers nimble as she traces his muscles, the ridges and valleys of his skin, the freckles and scars that she’s thoroughly explored. It feels so good, like a massage and like foreplay at the same time, that he clears his throat and grabs her hand.

"Okay, that's enough, I hate that shit."

"Well, sunscreen is important, old man, but they probably didn't have that research out in your generation," she teases, tossing aside the bottle and eyeing him up and down in appreciation.

He tries not to clench his stomach but maybe she catches it anyway, because she lets out a giggle and then straddles him two seconds flat, long limbs sprawled over him, her bouncing chest right at his face.

"Gin-" He tries to say her name, but her lips are on his, fusing their mouths together ferociously, nothing but tongue and spit and the passion of a new relationship after years of lingering glances and unspoken feelings. He runs his fingers through her hair, loving the longer length of it as it gives him something to hold, how it spreads all around her when he fucks her into the mattress. Thoughts like that do nothing to dampen his rising hard on, and he mutters a curse as his hands caress her bare skin, fingers playing with her bathing suit tie behind her neck for a minute before moving to dip his fingers into the waistband of her bottoms.

"No, take it off," she mumbles against his mouth, yanking herself up to twist in his arms, thrusting her chest in his face, plastering herself against him in a tangle of limbs as she pulls off the top. And suddenly she's topless in front of him, heaving from their makeout session.

Mike tries to hold back a groan of appreciation but when her eyes darken and she bites her lower lip sensuously at the sound, he's glad he doesn't succeed. He reaches out to caress her, feeling so incredibly clumsy but not letting to, not stopping because she is his to touch and he's not giving up that honor.

"God, Gin, you're on fucking fire."

She smiles at him softly then leans forward again, moaning when she feels the way her breasts rub against his hard chest, the contrast in their bodies making her grind her lower half on top of him and arch her neck so he can drop a line of kisses there.

"Jeez, Baker, I was only gone an hour," he teases, but he knows he’s just as eager with the way his hands can’t stop touching every inch of her.

She pushes playfully at his shoulder, maybe even blushes, or that could just be due to how he's massaging and playing with her nipples and laving attention at that spot below her ear that drives her wild. "Shut up. It's not that. It's just like- I- you know-" She shrugs and bites back the words as if she doesn't want to admit something but, that's okay, Mike has no problem saying it for both of them.

"Trust me, babe, I can't get enough of you either."

Her smile is radiant as he kisses it, chasing her dimples and surveying the corners of her mouth with his tongue. When his hand slips underneath her bikini bottoms, she's wet and gushing, ready to ride his fingers with her head burrowed in the hollow of his neck. As she inhales the scent of his aftershave mingled with sunscreen and sweat, he thrusts his fingers into her, watches as her body seems to glow in the afternoon sunshine.

They end up having dinner at eight o'clock.

Neither of them mind.


	2. 2019 shower reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a timeline for their relationship mapped out and I have this in 2019 after they win the World Series in 2018 and Mike retires, so this is Ginny back to baseball all alone without Mike Lawson, her catcher, but coming home to Mike Lawson, her boyfriend. :')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut. I really tried to make it something more but their hotness took over. Sorry, not sorry, sorry.

He had just finished rinsing the shampoo out of his eyes when he hears the knock on the bathroom door. Mike nearly stumbles in place, no time to even panic before the door opens and Ginny's head peeks in, one hand covering her eyes.

"Five second warning if you're doing anything weird," she calls out, a smile on her face as she makes her way inside.

"Jesus, Baker, way to scare an old man," he says, the panic subsiding as happiness quickly takes its place at seeing her after a six long days of separation. "How'd you get in here?"

"I called, you didn't answer," she says. "Used your code to get in through the garage. Can I look?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, not minding the way her eyes light up when they meet his own. Or the way they travel up and down his naked body, lingering at his broad chest. "Baker," he growls.

"Cold?" she teases, grinning broadly at him, but he can see the flush rising on her face after her examination.

"Shut up," he says with a laugh. "I asked what you're doing here."

"Oh, I-" The smile disappears from her face as she takes a sudden step back towards the door and away from him. "Sorry, I know it's late, figured you'd just be getting ready for bed- I mean, I can go-"

She turns on her bare feet before he realizes she misunderstood him.

"Hey!" he calls, opening the shower door to call out to her, not caring that there's a growing puddle of water forming on the tile. "Get back here! I meant I thought your flight was tomorrow morning."

"Oh." She turns back around, shoulders relaxing under her trademark Nike dri-fit top, the smile making its way back on her face. "Well, Blip and some of the others found an earlier flight so I figured... you know..." She shrugs oh so casually.

He smiles at her. "Oh, yeah? Had enough of Chicago?"

"Well, it's a nice place. Wasn't planning on asking to get traded there or anything but..." She grins at him, moving closer, eyes darting down his abdomen again, and a little lower too. He swears she licks her lips but that dart of tongue is gone in a flash. Her eyes flicker with heat though and assure him he didn't imagine it.

"When are you gonna let that go?"

"Uh, never, obviously," she answers. She's so close now he can reach out touch her elbow and she glances over his shoulder at the still running shower-head. "You're wasting water."

"Get in here then." He yanks her inside, closing the door behind her, his arms wrapping around her so his hands can cradle her pear-shaped ass clad in her classic black leggings.

"Mike, I only have my dirty laundry-" That's all she manages to get out before her lips are busy, his tongue gaining entry into her mouth and reminding her to kiss back. She moans in delight, arms wrapping around his neck, only to lift them a few seconds later as he pulls her top off, pausing to admire the sight of Ginny Baker in a sports bra with water streaming down her.

"Damn, you look good wet," he says before he's pulling that over her head too.

"I could've waited until you were done," she mutters, having no choice but to step out of her leggings and underwear when he crouches in front of her and slides them down. When he's sliding his hands between her legs, urging her to open them further, she refuses to budge, pushing at his shoulder. "Ew, no, Mike, I've been on a plane for hours."

"Like I give a shit about that," he says, being more persistent as he rubs at the back of her knees. That usually is a weak spot and sure enough, she stumbles back a good half a dozen steps into the stone bench further down the luxurious shower/spa area he decided to use tonight. "Open up, Baker." He pushes her down so she's sitting, still kneeling in front of her and waiting for her to comply.

She eyes this big, burly, oh so generous man in front of her, literally crouched on his busted knees, wanting nothing but to pleasure her. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't already soaked and ready for him, but the sight of him there, rivulets of water streaming down his face and dripping from his beard, that would get her from zero to sixty in no time.

So now it just gets her from sixty to a hundred.

She spreads her legs but only to pull him between them. "No. You sit," she orders, standing and gently pushing him down. God, does she enjoy that look of awe on his face as he looks up at her, as he follows the curves of her body down as she straddles him. She reaches to turn the shower to its lowest setting, barely a drizzle. "A man your age should rest."

He chuckles, bending to nip at her collarbone, teasing her breast with the friction of his beard. "You're a real smart ass, you know that?" He palms the mentioned part of her body, pulling her closer, brushing himself against her entrance a few times in punishment for her remark.

She pants in anticipation, fusing her lips against his over and over again. "I know. You like it," she says, smiling at him knowingly.

"Yeah, I do," he admits. He leans back slightly, allowing himself to enjoy the view of her, his hands resting at her waist, the perfect position for him to use his hips to slide himself into her. He lets out a low grunt of approval at how damn good it feels. It's been too long. How the hell did people survive the stretch of away games, he wonders, not for the first time this week. He remembers doing it once, a lifetime ago in a previous marriage, but something about the intensity of his feelings for Ginny and being the one stuck in an empty house this time makes every day and night seem to drag by.

Would it be a cliche to say it feels like coming home?

Yeah, yeah, it would. But he can't help it -  _it feels like coming home._

"So, did you miss me?" Mike asks, reaching up to grab her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Yes," she answers quickly, thrusting her knees up and spreading her legs so he fills her deeper. She whinnies at the sensation, holding him tight, not a slip of air between them.

"No, I mean, did you miss  _me?_ " He ruts into her on the last word so there's no doubt exactly what part of himself he's talking about. He raises an eyebrow at her, his mouth twitching in a smirk.

She nods even as she moans, her head falling back, and he licks the line of her throat. She squirms in laughter, and yeah, that little hitch of her hips feels good to both of them. Mike holds her a little tighter to keep her in place.

"Say it," he orders, pistoning his hips one more time.

"Yes, yes, I missed you, I missed  _it_." Her eyes dart down to where they're joined so there's no doubt she's referring to the same body part he is. She licks her lips and he finds it so incredibly hot, he groans, hands tightening on her waist, his mouth finding a minute to properly worship her breasts in between their verbal banter.

"Six whole days. Did you use your vibrator?"

He knows she has one, what woman doesn't in this day and age? He's still planning on how to convince her to give him a private show but for right now he'll settle for her even talking about it.

She goes silent as if unsure what answer to that question he would prefer, so he pushes into her again, mouth nipping at her shoulder to remind her of the question.

"Ginny, I said did-"

"Yeah, yes," she admits with a nod, eyes darting away from his as she continues to ride him, up and down. "I did, once. But-"

"But what?" he urges, brushing aside her wet hair so there's nothing hiding those beautiful eyes from his view. "Tell me."

"I like you better," she says quietly, and he swears he almost comes right there.

"Yeah?" His voice is gruff, laced with tension as he reaches inside to the most residual parts of himself for control as he has this conversation. He continues pushing his hips into her, matching her motions, knowing she's nearly ready for a push over the edge. "I'm bigger, I bet."

She snorts, and even in the midst of this conversation, with the water falling on them and his constant thrusts into her, she rolls her eyes. Then she looks into his face, sees the absolute adoration with which he looks up at her, and her amusement vanishes, deciding to be honest in the heat of the moment instead of refusing to inflate his ego like she usually would.

"Um, yeah. And thicker." She licks her lips as she looks down at him, maintaining eye contact as she rocks her hips, back and forth, back and forth. "And, oh  _god,_ harder. I swear you're the hardest."

"Fuck, Gin," he swears into the skin of her shoulder, licking at the random patterns of water that have collected. "You say shit like that, I'm gonna finish before you."

She laughs, and that sound doesn't help him any more than the previous conversation, so he focuses on her naked body for the next few minutes, getting her primed for his final act. Her collarbone, his hands on her breasts, his beard against the side of her neck, his hand sliding between her leg to slide across where they're joined. She shivers and moans at every sensation, her hips never ceasing the tempo she's creating.

Yeah, he knows all her spots but he still hopes to discover more. Or make them up as he goes, like an explorer in uncharted territory.

Sure enough, she's gasping and stretching her legs, fingernails digging into his skin in the most pleasurable way. She grabs at the hair at the back of his head, loves the way he leans up to look at her, the way he swallows forcefully when she does it as if he has to reign in all his control.

"Mike, I- I-." She groans, canting her body up and shaking her torso as if she can wiggle herself to orgasm. "It's like,  _right there,_ but I can't."

"Yes, you can," he reassures her, his big hands running up and down the curve of her spine. She's so petite, sometimes it hits him all over again what a  _girl_ she is despite what a monster she is on the field. And he's the only one who gets to touch her this way, the one she lets close enough to know her fragility, both physically and emotionally.

It gets him every time.

Him. Ginny Baker chose  _him._

"Come on."

"No, I'm too tired or something," Ginny whines, even as her hips continue restlessly to search for a rhythm that'll provide some relief. She huffs in frustration, burying her face in the hollow of his shoulder. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." He shifts on the bench to find a new angle that might help. His hips widen just the slightest but it works, as she falls a little lower on him, and he seems to hit her even further in. It must feel good because she gasps, hands flailing to grasp his skin even tighter to hold on, making the slightest whimpering noise that makes him even harder. Her eyes roll back in her head as her mouth falls open.

Oh, yeah, this is gonna work.

"Tell me what you need, Ginny."

She looks at him then quickly looks away, eyes darting to the glass door behind him. "I don't know."

"Harder? Some dirty talk?" he asks. He's noticed she has a particular affinity for his penchant for cursing and colorful language in bed, and yeah, he loves it.

"Um, maybe you can try that," she answers quietly, still avoiding his eyes.

"Okay, Ginny, you gotta look at me," he orders, and waits until her gaze locks on his. He sees her swallow and forces himself to stay in control. "You're right there, at the edge, I can feel it. Now, I need you to..." he pistons his hips into her, starting off gently then getting harder and harder with each word, "... clench that beautiful pussy around me and suck my dick dry, because it's my turn next. Then we do round two where I'm on top fucking you into the mattress."

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open, and she arches her entire body, lets out that dirty, dirty moan that Mike has become intimately familiar with over the last few months, the one he dreams about when she's away. Hell, he dreams about it when she's here too. Her nails digs her nails into his back, pulling him closer. Her head knocks back but Mike has got a hold of her hair and he holds her in place, not taking his eyes off her, using his every ounce of control to stay still until she becomes a limp mess of beautiful, wet skin leaning on him for support.

"I... um... oh," she finishes, meeting his eyes, biting her lower lip when she sees his pleased smirk. Her cheeks turn red. "Thanks."

_Thanks._

This fucking girl, Mike thinks with a chuckle.

"Don't thank me yet, Baker," he says, adjusting his hips. "I still need to finish and I don't want you to fall."

"Oh, yes.." She wiggles around him and he lets out a guttural groan. "Go. I won't fall," she assures him, her arms and legs plastered around him, ensuring they're balanced evenly on the narrow bench. "I'm very flexible, in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I've noticed," he tells her, nuzzling at her cheek, making her giggle.

"Then, come on, your turn," she says, arching into him, fingers grabbing his wet hair. The shower is still on its lowest setting, the slowest drizzle of warm drops falling on them and she blinks against them to look at him. "Captain."

He stutters, looking at her in surprise, shaking his head. "Gin-"

"Come on," says, whispering in his ear, tugging on his earlobe with her teeth even as she snaps her hips back and forth on top of him. "I need it bad, it's been six whole days, give it to me hard,  _Captain._ "

Before he can protest again, he's coming, a loud groan and a mix of curse words that echo in the space around them, that make her blush with pride at his reaction. His hips had been driving into her with force but he suddenly stops at one last thrust, head falling onto her shoulder and hands digging into her, one in her hair and one on her waist.

"See, I know what you like too," she says proudly and he just nods languidly.

"Yeah, you do. Jeez, Ginny."

She giggles in giddiness, fingers running over his broad shoulders. He swears he starts to harden again when he hears that giggle but there's no way they're doing another round here. Not this late. The clock in the bathroom reads almost one in the morning.

She winces as she rises from him, rolling back her shoulders, nearly stumbling before she grabs him for support. She smiles shyly when she meets his gaze.

"Um, I banged my knees."

"Sorry," he apologizes as he stands, increasing the water pressure and reaching for the body wash. "I'll get you some Advil."

"'s okay," she murmurs drowsily. "It was worth it."

"Hell yeah it was," he agrees. He makes quick work of washing them off again, forcing himself not to spend more time than necessary considering her eyes are already looking glazed over from sleep after the powerful orgasm.

"Five more minutes, Gin," he promises, "let's get you to bed." He turns off the shower, holds her hand and helps her step out of it, opting to go naked as he envelopes her in the big, white towel he had grabbed for himself. She looks so small and so damn cute, he bites back another ripple of desire to focus on her sleepy gaze. "Let me get you a shirt, okay, come on."

They step into the bedroom and she shivers. He turns to wipe her down quickly, patting her dry as she stares at him sleepily. She wobbles in place and he leans her against the wall. "Whoa, whoa, give me a minute."

He rushes to his drawers and grabs a t-shirt and a pair of boxers and hurries to comes back to where she is, eyes already closed.

"Baker," he calls out, waits until she blinks sleepily at him. At least it's better than her falling asleep standing up. "One more minute." He drops the towel from around her, quickly pulling the shirt over her head, noticing her make a face of disgust when her wet hair falls and soaks the back of the shirt. He quickly pulls her arms through it, then kneels and has her rest her hands on his shoulders as he pulls the boxers up.

"Bed, come on." Mike pushes her gently towards the her and she goes in a sleepy daze, falling onto the mattress face first, then curling onto her side, blinking sleepily at him.

"Coming?"

She may not notice that he's still dripping water and naked, but he is, so he just nods, then realizes she can't see him because her eyes are already closed. "Gimme a minute."

She nods so he figures she's not completely out yet, and grabs another towel to dry off, toweling his hair before he grabs a pair of briefs to wear to bed.

Her eyes open with a start when she feels the movement next to her, turning to look over her shoulder.

There's Mike, gently towel drying the wet locks of her hair, looking apologetic that he disturbed her.

"Was just gonna dry it a little. I know you hate sleeping with wet hair," he says gruffly, as if not sure whether to admit how much close attention he's paid to her.

She gives him that sweet smile she does sometimes when he knows something personal about her, like when he tells the taco truck guy  _no cilantro_ on his own, or when he lets her win the battle on choosing the radio station in the car just because he knows she loves the song that's playing and wants to sing along. Laced with sleep, she looks even more beautiful and delicately young.

"Thanks," she murmurs, turning her head back but pushing herself back against him, yearning for more contact. "Gets my shirt wet."

He just continues with the task, fingers gentle as he runs them through her hair. "I didn't use your shampoo."

She chuckles sleepily. "Was a sex shower, not a shampoo shower."

Speaking of, he remembers those banged up knees and reaches over her to the bedside table, grabbing a bottle of Advil from the drawer. He holds one to her mouth, nodding at her to accept. She does, dry swallowing it.

"Thanks."

"Stop thanking me for everything, Baker," he mutters with a chuckle.

"Okay."

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, returning his attention to her hair.

"'kay."

"I'm glad you came here," he adds.

"Bet you are," she comments and he can imagine the sleepily smirk on her face even if he can't see her face from behind.

He swats her arm playfully, and she chuckles.

"Hey, not just that. I mean, yes, that," he admits, not at all bashful, "but I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," she murmurs sleepily.

"Go to sleep now."

She makes some sort of noise in agreement, as if that's all she can muster right now.

Then, thirty seconds later: "G'night."

This girl, Mike thinks with a grin and a chuckle. So damn polite.

And he's a gentleman when he needs to be so he just answers her back.

"Night, Ginny."

Maybe tomorrow he'll get her a key so she can come in through the front door.


	3. 2021 daddy's home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some bawson family fluff.

"Ginny!" 

"In here," she calls from the general direction of the kitchen. "Maddy's having dinner!" 

He throws his blazer and messenger bag in the general direction of the couch and hurries into the kitchen, smiling wide when he's greeted by the sight of his girls in the kitchen. Sure enough, Maddy's in her high chair, squealing happily at what seems to be a mix of chicken and corn smeared all over her face. Ginny, though without the baby food on her, is just as happy. 

"Hey, baby girl," Mike greets, swooping in at Maddy's side and cradling her head, dropping kisses all over her forehead and hair, grabbing her little hands to kiss her tiny fingers. “Daddy’s home.”

"Ah, yes, the other woman in your life," Ginny teases, raising an eyebrow at him in amusement as she watches their reunion. He'd only left for work around noon, a short day since Padres weren't playing today, but by his homecoming you'd think he had been gone for weeks. "Think I could get a kiss sometime soon? I did marry you and have your baby, you know."

"And I'll be eternally grateful," he murmurs with a smirk as he moves her way, tugging her out of her chair for a long and thorough kiss. 

Her eyes flutter closed and she grabs his tie, pulling him closer so she can lean into him. "Do that again," she orders, her lips capturing his, kissing him again, mouth responding eagerly to him.

"Not in front of the baby, Gin," Mike jokes when they part and gasp for air, "we can't scar her this early."

"Whatever, it's not like she's gonna remember anything, she's seven months old," Ginny laughs. 

"Well, still, stop jumping me in front of the kid," Mike scolds, smirking when she starts slapping his chest playfully. "And there's the abuse."

She just laughs and tugs him by the tie again, kissing him one more time before he slyly slides into her chair and takes the bowl of baby food from her. "Hey, I was feeding her that!"

"And now I am." He resumes feeding Maddy, grinning brightly when the infant claps happily at seeing her father. "See, she's happy to see me."

"Whatever, she just wants more chicken." But Ginny gives up her spot and moves to the oven, pre-heating it to pop something in for their dinner. "And guess what? She loves my baby food creations. I've found my calling."

Mike just chuckles, but can't deny it since Maddy is quickly finishing everything in the glass container. "Too bad we don't eat this stuff past our first birthday, Baker, or else you could manage meals for the rest of us."

"Hey! Don't pick a fight the second you get home, that's like husband 101. You should know this."

"Right, of course." He meets her gaze from across the room and winks at her. "I'll make it up to you tonight, in the bedroom, with my tongue."

Ginny shakes her head at him even as a blush creeps up her cheeks. "Oh, so you can say stuff like that all sexy-like, but kissing in front of her worries you?"

"She's seven months old, she's not gonna remember this, Baker." He echoes her words back at her, only smiling when she growls in annoyance at him. "Okay, relax. How was your workout today?"

"Good." She moves to the chair next to him, her face lighting up as she details her new workout routines with the trainers to get her in shape for next year. She's lost the baby weight but needs to gain muscle again, work on her pitches, and find the new equilibrium required of her post-baby body. "I mean, it's gonna be a day by day thing but we should be on schedule as we planned. Knock on wood," she adds, quickly rapping her knuckles on the dining room table. 

Mike chuckles, remembering those days of superstition, of lucky shirts and socks and holding desperately onto tradition in the hopes of a winning streak. He misses it some days, especially game days when he's left watching Ginny on TV from work if he can't make it to the game, but seeing Maddy, he doesn't miss it as much as he thought he would. Maybe she's provided the perfect cure to the heartache. 

"You'll be great," he assures her, his hand reaching out to rub up and down her pitching arm like he always does to soothe her nerves. "You do what you need to do, just don't be in a hurry to get rid of those." His eyes flicker purposely across her breasts before he looks back up to meet her gaze in all seriousness. But his eyes twinkle mischievously and she snorts at him. 

"Oh, really? Is that so?" She crosses her arms slowly, grinning to herself as her nursing tank dips low and gives him a view of more cleavage. Her bra size had gone up after pregnancy, and she was still breastfeeding, and Mike, like any other red-blooded all-American heterosexual male, was enjoying the view. 

"For Maddy's sake. Milk production and stuff, and whatnot," Mike adds, even as his eyes wander back to her chest. "Not me. I don't care one bit."

"Oh, yes, I bet you don't. A perfect gentleman, that's Mike Lawson." She moves to grab the empty bowl of baby food from him, reaching for the wipes to clean up Maddy's face. She purposely leans right into him, smirking to herself as he can't take his eyes away from the tantalizing view of cleavage. "Hey, eyes up here, I'm more than a milk machine, you know."

"Yup, absolutely, so true," he says, looking back up at her. When he sees she's just teasing, he rolls his eyes and grabs for her, pulling her into his lap as he nuzzles at her neck, one big hand palming the curve of her breast like he can't resist. "Hey, you know I'm kidding, right? I love you just the way you are - any way you are."

"I know," she says softly, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

"I mean, A cup, B cup, C, or maybe you wanna go to a D-"

"Stop!" She slaps him on the arm, laughing at his lame joke and kissing him in between giggles to shut him up. "You're so dumb."

"And you're amazing," he tells her, his hands cradling her face as his eyes go soft with awe. "I mean, god, Ginny, you had our baby. And you're gorgeous, every inch of you. A badass, brave World Series winning pitcher of an athlete, my wife." He kisses her passionately, just quick enough to leave her wanting more before he pulls away. "Seriously, the stories I can't wait to tell Maddy about you."

Ginny tells herself she's getting misty-eyed because of the hormones, so she kisses him again and busies herself with unfastening Maddy's seatbelt. "No less than I have to tell her about you, Lawson. Now, come on, help me get this rugrat changed." 


	4. 2024 library of congress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lawson and Sanders families visit the Library of Congress' baseball exhibit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is based on something I saw on the news about there being a baseball exhibit at the Library of Congress this summer since the All-Star Game was held in DC. So of course, I had to imagine our favorite Padres and their families visiting there a few years in the future with their own kids. :') The few items I mentioned in the exhibits are all real too! 
> 
> This turned ridiculously long but I couldn't help it. :X And of course no matter how much I tried to keep the chapter family-friendly, there was a date at the end and of course, Mike and Ginny had to just indulge in each other. :') 
> 
> Here's a visual of how I imagined Ginny's dress for the date. And Mike because seriously that episode still from 1x06 is just the gift that keeps on giving.

"Kids these days have no appreciation for the finer things in life."  
  
"Tell me about it," Ginny mutters even as she bounces Sara in her arms and tries to have her focus on the exhibit in front of her, but the toddler is too busy chewing on Ginny's hair. "Sara, _yuck._ That's yucky."   
  
"We should've left them at home," Mike grumbles, leaning against the stroller and looking entirely too dad-like and delicious that Ginny just grins at him. "What? I'm serious. Just you and me."   
  
She moves next to him, leaning up to drop a kiss on his lips, murmuring, "Yeah, but then we wouldn't have left the hotel room."   
  
He grins at that, deepens the kiss. "Hell yeah, now that sounds like a good vacation."   
  
Ginny playfully pushes him away, but he just wraps an arm around her, keeping her at his side. Sara leans over her mother's shoulder and yanks at his beard and he lets her, looking around the vast exhibit, taking in the high ceilings, releasing a deep sigh.   
  
"Baseball, Baker. America's national pastime. Take me out to the ballgame."   
  
Ginny just snorts at him, expecting one of his classic long-winded speeches, but he keeps it short and simple, and oh so sweet.   
  
"One of the two great loves of my life."   
  
The way he looks at her still makes her blush, even after seven years together, right there in the Library of Congress's baseball exhibit with their eighteen-month-old in her arms.   
  
Mike moves aside a strand of hair that's escaped her ponytail, runs his hand to span possessively down the curve of her back as he leans down to quietly add more.   
  
"And the meeting of those two loves? That was a beautiful day."   
  
Ginny swallows back emotion, tells herself not to tear up at this, but oh, she can't help it. When he says the right thing, he just _melts_ her.

So she tries for her signature brand of sarcasm instead.  
  
"You mean the day you slapped my ass, or the day you rose naked from your ice bath to meet Duarte?"   
  
Mike chuckles, hip checks her for her smartass comment and bringing up the catcher he only pretends to despise. "Fuck him. I mean the day my hand met your ass, Baker. Changed my whole god damn life."   
  
"Oh, yeah. Slapping my ass and telling me I'm the second prettiest player you’ve met, way to seduce the future mother of your children. I can't want to tell the girls," she teases.   
  
Mike winces at that, glances down at Sara as if to double check she didn't understand the story. She's happy just gazing around the room even if she doesn't appreciate what's being displayed in it the same way her parents do.   
  
"Okay, maybe we should edit some of it when we tell them," he suggests.   
  
Ginny just laughs and shakes her head, moving further down the room and glancing at the displays. "No way, Lawson. I'm sharing it word for word."   
  
"You would," he mutters, following after her. "Also, can I just say, you're so hung up on that Leo comment, even years later. Just let it go, babe. I had no idea you were so vain."   
  
Ginny sputters at his teasing, turning around to glare at him. "I am not vain! I just-"   
  
"Look, if it makes you feel better, I can say with certainty that you look a lot better than Leo would in those jean shorts." He winks at her, gives her a nod and watches as she moves further away from him down to another display. "Yeah, now that's a hell of a view."   
  
"Stop it!" she exclaims with a laugh, shaking her head at his antics and motioning for him to come forward. "Get over here. We gotta meet Blip and them in the next room."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm hungry," he mumbles. "Where are we going for-"   
  
"Ball! Ball!"   
  
They turn in unison to look at Sara who's pointing at one of the ancient baseballs on display, her entire face lit up as she recognizes the ball she's seen around quite a lot in her short lifespan.   
  
Ginny grins and reaches for her little hand, kisses the tiny knuckles. "That's right, honey, baseball! Can you say baseball?"   
  
"'seball!"   
  
"Close enough," Mike declares with a grin, taking Sara from Ginny and smothering her chubby cheek in kisses. "Well, I guess the five grand we shelled out for the trip was worth it."   
  
Ginny just shakes her head as she watches Mike cradle Sara, the little girl's eyes lighting up as she makes faces at Mike. "You spent way too much. We did not have to fly first class."   
  
"The Sanders did," Mike pouts. "And anything Blip can do, I can do better."   
  
Ginny just rolls her eyes again. "Idiots. And she already knew how to say baseball back home."   
  
"So? It still counts as an educational experience. Damn, Baker, so petty. Still jealous both girls said _dada_ first?" He arches an eyebrow at her, his expression smug, his cheek right against Sara's as they both stare at her with matching hazel eyes.   
  
Ginny ignores him and moves away, smiling to herself when she hears him murmuring to the baby as he puts her back in the stroller.   
  
"Yeah, she's still jealous. It's not her fault you love me more, right, Sara? I love you more too."   
  
"Mommy, Mommy! Come here!!"   
  
They turn in sync when they hear their three-year-old’s voice, wincing as it echoes in the sanctity of the building and a few visitors turn to frown their way.   
  
"She still does not understand using her indoor voice!" Ginny complains as she and Mike quickly head to the next exhibit where the entire Sanders family waits for them.   
  
Maddy runs up to her father, grinning when he catches her immediately. "Dad! Look, look! There's-"   
  
"Honey, what have we told you about not yelling?" Ginny scolds even as she reaches out to fix her headband and floppy curls. "Look where you are. Indoor voice."   
  
"Mom, it's you!"   
  
"And we've now reached the Ginny Baker portion of the exhibit," Blip teases from the display case, nodding for his teammate and friend to come forward.   
  
"Look, Aunt Ginny!" Marcus says. The twins hadn't been thrilled about a boring museum visit. They were almost fifteen now and nearly as tall as Blip. But they didn't have basketball camp until next week and Evelyn insisted on it being an entire family vacation. Blip had promised them a visit to the nearest amusement park to keep them happy and their grumbling to a minimum. But now their voices are excited as they grab Ginny's hand to pull her forward.   
  
Ginny rolls her eyes and drags her feet, blushing before she's even seen the pictures. She's seen the posts online, even tweeted back and forth with the museum curator to thank her for the honor, but to see it in person now is something else entirely.   
  
And there it is. A photo of her profile on the field, the number 43 clearly visible, as is her ponytail and face, her dark skin, and her beautiful form as she waits to release a pitch. It looks like from her rookie year, which makes sense because there's a blurb there about her being the first woman to pitch in the Majors.   
  
"That's my girl," Mike says proudly, coming to her side and dropping a kiss on her cheek.   
  
"That's you, Mommy!" Maddy says proudly, reaching to poke at her mother's face, grinning at her broadly as if she's just won a game of I Spy and finding her mother was the last clue.   
  
"That's right, honey, it's me," she murmurs as she stares at the photo, at the awe inspiring sight of being included behind a bulletproof glass case of historical baseball memorabilia including the first winning World Series ball, Jackie Robinson's bat, the first known copy of "baseball laws" written down. There she is.   
  
Even Pop would be proud.   
  
And there's all her family behind her. Mike and her girls, and Blip and Evelyn and their daughter Lilly, and the twins crowding around her and smiling at her since they're old enough to remember her early days. She sniffles back the emotion, maybe even wipes away a tear that threatens to escape, and leans over to kiss Blip on the cheek, because how could she ever forget Blip who had her back all the way from the beginning, right from those horrible Texas dugouts in the Minors. He smiles at her, squeezes her shoulder with pride.   
  
"Dad, there's you!" Lilly cries out, pointing at another photo, the iconic one taken of the Padres after their World Series win five years ago, the one that was plastered on the front page of every sports section. It's included right next to Ginny's photo to showcase her as the first woman to pitch in and win a World Series, but her guys, her teammates, are included in the shot too, because no one wins a baseball game alone.   
  
"That's right, there's Dad," Evelyn says proudly.   
  
Sure enough, it's a great shot of the team after they'd rushed the field, crowding around their captain to celebrate having gotten him his dream when they knew he'd wanted it so long, knew he was on his way out. Ginny's right next to him, and Blip too, the smiles on their faces clear even with the confetti flying everywhere in the photo. And there's Duarte and Stubbs, Sonny and Sal, Butch, Al... and it's almost like they're transported back to that moment - the roar of the crowd, the high of their emotions, almost makes them feel misty-eyed all over again.   
  
"That was a good game," Mike says softly, looking over at Blip, fist out waiting for a bump, "Captain."   
  
"Yeah, it was, Captain," Blip echoes, nods with nothing but respect as he returns the bump, then reaches down to put an arm around each of the twins.   
  
"Everyone stay like that," Evelyn calls out, "picture time! Come on, let's take some then break for lunch."   
  
It's only the promise of lunch that gets the kids to smile their best smiles and take the photos. Family photos, couples, just the kids, then Evelyn asks a stranger to take one of them as a group. That of course sets off the realization who they are and they have to take some fan photos, and some with people who don't even follow baseball but just follow bawson.   
  
"Aw, is that your daughter?" someone asks seeing Maddy standing next to Mike as she waits to take a picture with Ginny. "Can she be in the picture too?"   
  
"No," Mike growls immediately, frowning at the woman and protectively moving Maddy's head away. "Do _not_ take a picture of her."   
  
The woman startles at the tone, fumbles with her phone and quickly apologizes. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought it'd be cute."   
  
"It's okay," Ginny tells her brightly to smooth over the moment. "We just don't include our children in fan photos. Safety and all." She urges the fan into position so she can take her selfie. "I'm sure you understand."   
  
"Of course," she says, thanking Ginny and moving away.   
  
But Mike still glares at her like he does anytime someone wants a photo of the kids, much like the incident last year with him punching a pushy photographer outside the grocery store when he'd gone in with the girls. He's even been working with lawmakers and a huge list of other athletes to fight for stricter laws against the paparazzi taking unauthorized pictures of their children. It's an issue he's felt strongly about since they had their own kids and Ginny couldn't be more proud of him, even if he gets a little overprotective sometimes.   
  
"Hey," Ginny says quietly, running a hand over his arm. "We're good."   
  
He sighs, running a hand through Maddy's hair so she doesn't pick up on the tension in the moment. But she's too busy playing peek-a-boo with Gabe to even notice.   
  
"Yeah, I know, just..." Mike shrugs in annoyance.   
  
"I know, I get it." Ginny runs a hand over his broad shoulder so he'll relax. She smiles at him and leans in to kiss him softly. "You're amazing."   
  
"Hell yeah I am," he says, all his previous anger gone as he leans in to prolong the kiss for an extra second even in the midst of their chaos. "I'm Library of Congress material."   
  
She laughs and grins at him, gives him another smacking kiss. "Yeah, you are, babe."   
  
"Aw, now that's an Instagram worthy photo," Evelyn says from a foot away, who still has everyone's phones in her hand to take photos. She snaps one last photo of them as she returns Ginny's phone, gives her a quick hug. "Come on, girl, let's corral these animals outta here and get some food."   
  
"Yeah, let's go," Mike declares, eyeing that all the kids are accounted for and following Evelyn towards the exit.   
  
"Um, you know she meant you and Blip in the animals part, don't you?" Ginny laughs, and Evelyn grins at her.   
  
"Rude." Mike glares playfully at Evelyn as he and Blip take up the back of the group and successfully herd their crew to the elevators.

* * *

"But I don't understand."  
  
"I'm sure you don't, honey, but it's still happening," Ginny calls out from the bathroom making Mike roll his eyes with exasperation in the room outside.   
  
"I just mean we're already doing this whole trip with Blip and Evelyn, why do we have to do dinner with them too? Let's just go alone," he pleads.   
  
"That's rude," she calls out. "And we're doing it because I wanna have dinner with Evelyn so we figured you and Blip can keep each other company."   
  
"Oh, and that's not rude?" Mike grumbles. "Now that I think about, maybe he and I can just stay home-"   
  
"Uh, that's not how a double date works. We made a reservation for four," she tells him as she comes out of the bathroom, walking past him to get to her heels by the door. "You guys come too, we just ignore you. Plus, it's your buddy from the Nationals' restaurant. You have to come."   
  
When he doesn't retort anything back, she looks up and smirks at the expression on his face as his eyes run over every inch of her outfit. It's not that the dress is exposing a ton of skin, just that it's hugging every inch of her curves _like_ a second skin.   
  
"Are you fucking kidding me, Baker?" Mike asks her, his eyes dark with desire. "You plannin' to wear a sweater over that?"   
  
"Cute," she retorts, finally standing up and reaching for his hand. "Let's say bye to the kids."   
  
He moves towards her, takes the hand she offers but uses his other one to run a hand down the back of her dress where the zipper runs right down to the curve of her bottom. She shivers and leans closer to him, barely holding back a whimper. He smirks and nuzzles at her cheek, his beard rough in contrast to his soft lips that kiss the corner of her mouth.   
  
"If you're trying to gauge whether you could give an old man a heart attack in that dress, I'm saying the answer is yes."   
  
"Oh, good," she says with a grin, "hope you've updated your will, Lawson."   
  
"Updated my will," he mutters as he follows her out of their room to the Sanders suite down the hall. "You're a real smartass, you know that."   
  
"Oh, I think I know exactly how good my ass looks tonight," she comments with a wink, leaving him staring at that part of her body as she saunters into the Sanders room where Blip and Evelyn are waiting. Evelyn's wearing a similar body-hugging number and Mike figures it's gotta be some kind of conspiracy against the boys, probably revenge for getting distracted by the game at lunch and Maddy and Lilly emptying nearly an entire bottle of ketchup.     
  
"Mommy! You look sooooo pretty," Maddy says, bouncing on the bed with excitement as she sees her mother. "So, so, so pretty!"   
  
"Thank you, honeybun," Ginny laughs as she gives her a hug. "And you look so pretty too. I love your PJs."   
  
"Daddy, can I come too?" Maddy pouts, her lower lip trembling in that way that gets her father to give in nine out of ten times.   
  
"I'd love for you to come," Mark says honestly, tickling away her frown and leaving her in giggles, "it's your mother that won't allow it."   
  
Ginny playfully glares at him before turning back to their daughter. "It's a dinner for grown-ups, Maddy, but tomorrow we're gonna get back to doing fun stuff for you, okay? And Gabe and Marcus are gonna watch you tonight, alright? Look, Sara’s already asleep." She moves to the corner of the room to hug Sara in the pack-n-play and cover her with kisses. "Mike, pay the boys."   
  
Mike rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath even as he digs into his wallet for a twenty for each teenager.   
  
"Thanks, Uncle Mike!"   
  
"Come on, Maddy, Lilly, let's get some snacks from the vending machine and pick a movie," Marcus says as he goes to usher them down the hall after another round of goodbye hugs.   
  
"That's our cue," Evelyn says, linking arms with Ginny as they turn the other way towards the elevators. "Girl, you look amazing."   
  
"Thanks," Ginny blushes, "you too."   
  
"Well, I already knew that but thank you anyway. Okay, so did you hear that Ciara is pregnant again?"   
  
Rolling their eyes at each other behind their wives, Mike and Blip dutifully follow. 

* * *

"Oh my god, that chocolate cake was pure _sin_ ," Evelyn moans during the car ride back to the hotel. "Like, beyond delicious."   
  
"It was not that good," Blip counters, laughing at his wife's dramatics. "The creme brûlée was better. Tell 'em, Mike."   
  
"Well, I would," Mike responds, "but Baker here ate about all of mine."   
  
"I said sorry!" She flushes in embarrassment as he just looks at her fondly. "Sorry." She leans in to kiss him on the cheek in apology, but he turns his head at the last second and it lands on his lips. He deepens it just for a second before he remembers where they are, but it's enough to leave her with hooded eyes and breathing deeply, licking her lips as if to savor his taste.   
  
"Ew, save that shit for the bedroom," Blip orders with a frown.   
  
"Aw, it's sweet. Let them get their sexy on! God knows they need the alone time with two little ones," Evelyn laughs, watching as Ginny blushes and hides her face in the crook of Mike's arm. "We're here anyway."   
  
As they make their way into the hotel, Mike spots the bar and nods at Evelyn that he and Ginny are gonna get a drink. She gives him a wink and a nod of understanding as he grabs Ginny's hand and tugs her back towards him.   
  
"We'll be up in ten," he calls after the Sanders in the now secluded hotel lobby at this time of night.   
  
"I'd hope you'd take longer than that, Michael," she teases, and she and Blip laugh as they get into the elevator.   
  
Mike rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around his wife, marveling again at those curves of her and how she fits so perfectly under his arm, like her body was drawn to fit there.   
  
"Stay," he says, pushing her into a barstool as he orders two shots from the bartender. "I'll be right back." He just grins when she sticks her tongue at him for ordering her around. He can't resist any longer and leans down to kiss her like he wants, all tongue and all passion, his hands cradling her face and holding her close, leaving them both gasping for air. "Stay," he repeats.   
  
Five minutes later he comes back from the bathroom and makes his way to her at the bar, enjoying the view of her bare shoulders and the curve of her back, the way her long legs are crossed as she taps a foot idly waiting for his return.   
  
"Ginny Baker, in the flesh." He whistles, looking her up and down blatantly, deciding to have a little fun. "Didn't I just see your face in the baseball exhibit?"   
  
She blushes when she realizes what game he's playing, looks over her shoulder to make sure no one's in their vicinity. "Um, hi." She licks her lips, almost makes him groan a minute into their roleplay and he marvels at how fucking weak he is for her, even after all these years. "I used to have your rookie card."   
  
"Used to?" He arches an eyebrow at her arrogantly.   
  
She rolls her eyes and huffs in exasperation. "Um, maybe it's still in a drawer somewhere."   
  
Mike hums at that. "And you had my poster on your wall?"   
  
This time she grins at him, all confidence, not letting him be the only one playing this game. "Nope," she enunciates clearly. "I had Jeter."   
  
"Shut your damn mouth," he says with a laugh, warm and comforting, just like the whiskey he'd ordered at dinner, and it passes over her, makes her smile wider at him and lean in closer. There’s something about the way he’s looking at her, the wine from dinner, the dim lighting and the time of night that makes her lose her inhibitions, makes her want to tease him.   
  
"Well, damn, Baker. I guess I got my hopes up thinkin' I was your favorite player."   
  
"You are," she says quickly. "You're my favorite person," she adds quietly, as she leans in even closer, her breasts brushing against his arm, marveling at those big strong biceps of his.   
  
"Yeah?" He drops the act for a minute to grab her hand and kiss her palm, near where her wedding ring sits. She nods at him and he smiles. "You're mine too. Favorite everything." And they just sit like that for a minute, hands entwined, smiling at each other, marveling at their lives and how this game of baseball brought them together, created a family for them.   
  
Mike catches her eye and clears his throat as he leans in closer, running a finger down her bare arm. "So, you have a room upstairs, I'm assuming," he says with a smirk, returning to their game. "Can I see it?"   
  
She smiles at him, drinks her shot and licks her lips again, taking in the way his eyes darken at the peek of her tongue. She moves to put a hand on his arm on the bar, surveying the sight of him as if deep in thought.   
  
"Picking up Mike Lawson in a hotel bar," she says finally. "Isn't that a bit of a cliche?"   
  
"Well, it's only a cliche because it works." His voice is smooth, the promise of a good time in the air as he plays with her fingers, waiting for her response.   
  
This time she's the one that smirks, her eyes moving down to his crotch, licking her lips just the slightest and before she moves them back to his face. A blush rises high on her cheeks even before she begins to speak.

But speak she does.   
  
"I've heard the rumors. You think we'll fit?"   
  
Mike inhales sharply, he's so turned on all of a sudden, and he tugs on her hand so she's standing in between his legs, so she can feel his awakening hard on, so he can wrap his arms around her waist and keep her there. "Oh, yeah, we'll fit," he murmurs. "I'll take good care of you."   
  
"You'll get me nice and wet?" she whispers in his ear.   
  
Mike takes another shuddering breath, can't believe the student is surpassing the master if this is the way she's taking control of the game. All he'd wanted was to tease her a little before dragging her upstairs but now he's the one fighting to control his raging dick so he can make it to the room without embarrassing himself.   
  
"Fuck, yeah, Baker," he murmurs in her hair, one hand running through the silky strands while the other palms her perfect pear-shaped ass. "I'm gonna take care of you all night long."   
  
She whimpers, moves in even closer so she's nearly on top of him, breathes in and breathes out as she looks deep into his eyes that are glittering with lust.   
  
"Hmm, okay.” She nods.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"I guess it's your lucky day, Lawson. You get to find out exactly what Ginny Baker tastes like," she murmurs in his ear, running a hand tantalizingly close to his crotch before she turns and heads for the elevator.   
  
"Fuck. _Fuck._ " Mike downs his shot and throws some bills on the counter, hurrying behind her. When he's inside, just the two of them in the elevator, he crowds her against the wall where she stands, not using his hands to touch her but just his entire body. She arches her neck back, and he nuzzles across her pulse, rubs his beard there and kisses it, smirking when she whimpers in pleasure. "I might be rough," he warns her.   
  
She shrugs, smiling enigmatically at him. "Okay. I can do rough."   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Yeah. I can do you," she comments, eyeing him up and down with that sensuous smile of hers that drives him wild. "I can do you all night long too," she echoes just as they arrive at their floor.   
  
Then she grabs his hand and pulls him to their suite door, moaning as he wraps his hands around her waist and laves kisses on her bare shoulder as she pauses to get their keycard out of her purse. She can't help but throw her head back, whimpering as his hips are already moving against her ass.   
  
"God, Mike, wait until we're inside."   
  
Then, finally, they're inside. They spot both girls in the room fast asleep, Evelyn having texted Ginny a few minutes ago that she moved them to their room. Sara's in her portable crib and Maddy's snoring softly with the covers at her feet and her thumb in her mouth. Mike moves her little hand out of her mouth, fixes her blanket, kisses her forehead and smooths down her curls. They take turns kissing each girl goodnight before they move to their adjoining room.   
  
Before she can even take a few steps inside, Mike's got her against the wall, his big body holding her immobile, one strong thigh wedged between her legs to spread them open.   
  
"Wait," she says, throwing her head back to gaze down at him. "Pillow." Mike reaches over to the couch to get her one and she drops it to the floor at her feet for his busted up knees. "We'll do rough, but first, my turn. On your knees."   
  
Mike swallows, nods at her and follows her command.   
  
Right before he lifts up the last inch of her dress and dives in, he thinks about how he should really tweet the Baseball Americana exhibit curator a thank you. He always knew he'd be thankful to baseball, he just never thought he'd be grateful to the Library of Congress too. 


	5. 2017 neighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny brings someone to a Padres event and Mike notices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one!

"Break me off a piece of that," Evelyn moans.  
  
"Evelyn."  
  
"I mean, I'm just saying."  
  
"He's okay."  
  
Evelyn scoffs, as do a few WAGs next to her.  
  
"Just because you get the view of the naked Padres in the locker room," Stubbs' girlfriend begins, "doesn't mean you can't appreciate a hunk in the wild."  
  
"That's not even true! I have my own changing room!" Ginny laughs. "We're years in, you all know this."  
  
"Whatever. Technicality," one of them says with a shrug.  
  
"Aunt Ginny, come on!" Marcus calls.  
  
"Yeah, come on, Aunt Ginny!" Grayson calls out to her with a grin.  
  
She rolls her eyes and hands baby Lilly back to Evelyn. "Gotta go."  
  
Evelyn just rolls her eyes. "Such a tomboy."  
  
She just laughs as she grabs her water gun and chases after Gabe, almost out of breath as she circles the Sanders backyard and comes to Grayson's side. "I take it you're having fun."  
  
He shrugs at her casually, but the smile is bright on his face. "It's okay, I guess. Free food."  
  
"That's my motto too," she echoes with a grin, her hand up to meet his high-five. "Come on, this is better than being depressed at home, right?"  
  
He nods. "Yeah. Thanks for inviting me."  
  
"Now," she holds up the water gun, Charlie's Angels-style, "let's divide and conquer."

* * *

She's at the grill waiting for her burger when he finally can't resist saying anything. He's been watching her, running around the yard in her bikini top and cutoff shorts, all long legs and curly hair, her smile hard to miss despite how much he tried to ignore it. That, and the shirtless, younger guy she'd brought as her date, the one Evelyn and the WAGs couldn't take their eyes off of.  
  
Ginny sighs dramatically, tapping her foot as she waits.  
  
"Sighing at me isn't gonna make your burger less raw, Baker," he tells her, not even looking away from the grill.  
  
She sighs again. "Two burgers, I need two."  
  
"Didn't you already have two?"  
  
"Rude," she tells him. "And one's for Grayson."  
  
"Grayson," Mike repeats a little too casually, his attention still focused on the grill, hand holding the spatula a little too tightly. "That's a funny name."  
  
"Um, I guess?" Ginny shrugs. "He's from the South."  
  
"Of course, that Southern accent all the ladies just swoon for."  
  
"Is there a point to this?" Suddenly, the sunshine just feels a little too bright, the sounds of laughing children around her a little too annoying, the smell of sizzling meat making her frown as she focuses her gaze on one Mike Lawson. How he manages to steal the spotlight, she'll never know, but here she is, focusing on him all over again.  
  
"Nope," he says, "nothing at all. It's just-" He stops, shakes his head at himself as if to hold back the words.  
  
But it's too late. She's already hooked.  
  
"Just _what?_ Spit it out." She stares at him as he gets her burger ready. A slice of cheese, a healthy squirt of ketchup, a quick dab of mustard, one pickle, no cilantro.  
  
"I mean, isn't that messy? Sleeping with your neighbor? The awkwardness after you break up..." He shrugs, ignores her as he places another row of patties on the grill, as if he'd just commented on the Dodgers game they're all waiting for the score to.  
  
Ginny sets her plate down, crosses her arms and leans in to hiss at him. " _Excuse me?_ "  
  
Mike finally looks at her, not an ounce of fear at her expression, looking past her to the crowded backyard as if he's secure having the perfect buffer to prevent her from making a scene.  
  
"Just sayin'."  
  
She seethes in anger for all of thirty seconds before she realizes the burgers are getting cold and Grayson's probably waiting for his food. She grabs a handful of plastic spoons and throws them at him, smirking when he dodges back and quickly closes the lid of the grill.  
  
"What the hell, Baker?!"  
  
" _First off_ ," she begins, narrowing her eyes at him, "it's none of your business who I do whatever I do with."  
  
He hums, not meeting her gaze, clenching his jaw as if her pushing away two years of unresolved sexual tension under the rug is a-okay with him.  
  
"Noted."  
  
"Second, what if we don't break up, huh?" She takes a little too much pleasure at the way his eyes meet hers at the question, his jaw tightening again. "He could be 'the one,'" she declares, using air quotes and all.  
  
"Good luck to him then," he mutters under his breath, turning back to the grill, his shoulders stiff.  
  
" _Third,_ " she says with a deep breath, "he's just a friend." Mike's gaze meets hers in surprise and she continues, trying not to feel smug. "An engaged friend. His girlfriend's in the military on her last deployment so I invited him along when I saw him getting his mail."  
  
"I... oh. Oh." He nods at the new information, running a hand down his beard in what she recognizes as a sign of embarrassment even if he'd never acknowledge it. "That's good. Friends are good." Ginny raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to continue talking.  
  
And he takes the dare.  
  
"So, um, what branch of the military is she, because Stubbs' sister is in the Navy and-"  
  
"Stop!" Ginny exclaims with a laugh, throwing another handful of spoons at him.  
  
"Okay, that's enough with the flying cutlery," Mike says as he grabs her hand.  
  
They stand like that, right at the patio table, the sunshine on her bare skin, Mike staring at her so intently from under the brim of his faded Padres hat. The way he looks at her makes her almost shiver, which is ridiculous considering it's sweltering hot out here.  
  
"Um..." Her fingers squeeze his for just a second, she swears it's unintentional but maybe it was a reflex, it just felt so nice, their hands touching for a minute. "Sorry."  
  
"No," he says with a soft smile, dropping her hand, "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot."  
  
"Yeah, you are," she says with a grin.  
  
And they stare at each other like that, that hint of something more in the air again, that's lingered since that night last year outside the bar, that pokes its head out anytime they're alone together hinting at the promise of something more than just teammates and friends, something  _better_.  
  
He opens his mouth to say something, glances over her shoulder then turns back to the grill.  
  
"Ginny! What's taking so long?"  
  
She smiles up at Grayson, holds out the plate for him to grab his burger. "Oh, sorry. Got busy talking to Lawson here."  
  
"Hi," Grayson holds out his hand and shakes Mike's as he introduces himself.  
  
"Hey." Mike looks between them, smiling at Ginny, nodding at her. "Well, you two should enjoy your food before it gets cold."  
  
Ginny rolls her eyes at him effectively dismissing them, and just tugs Grayson by the arm, heading back towards the pool.  
  
When she sneaks a look over her shoulder, he's watching her walk away.


	6. 2019 fist fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike punches someone and causes a scene. Ginny doesn't appreciate it yet Mike won't apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be much appreciated! :)

"I cannot believe how completely _stupid_ that was. Can you imagine the fallout? Oh god, it's gonna be everywhere," Ginny groans, holding her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to try and calm herself.

It doesn't work.

"Which definitely means I'll have a phone call from Amelia in about half an hour so thanks for ruining my Friday night." She glares at him and even with only the blur of the San Diego street lights passing over her face, Mike can still make out her expression.

"Gin-"

"I mean, are you just gonna go around punching everyone who hates me now? You might as well quit your job then, work as my hired muscle, because you'll never get anything else done!" She takes a deep breath, exhales, inhales, exhales, tries to follow the steps that her therapist encouraged in a tense situation, but what do you know, they're hard to follow in a tense situation.

She spies Mike rolling his eyes at her sarcasm even if his gaze is focused solely on the road. And of course that just sets her off again like every little thing has since they exited the restaurant fifteen minutes ago.

" _Really?_ You think this is funny? This is the type of stuff I avoid every single day, making a scene, and you just had to cause one!"

"It's not funny-" he starts to say, but she cuts him off again when she sees him signal to merge right for the exit to his house.

"Oh, no you don't. Nope, you're taking me home. _My_ home."

She spends maybe two nights there when she's home from away games, and yes, she technically has the majority of her stuff there, but mostly it's become a place she pays a mortgage on while she spends most nights at Mike's. And why wouldn't she? They've been dating for months now, all her toiletries are there along with a couple dozen of her signature Nike leggings and tank tops, and well, she's a simple girl, she doesn't need much else.

Plus, Mike cooks. He knows baseball. He has a private pool. He has sex with her. And cuddles with her on the couch.

But tonight she takes vengeful pleasure telling him she's not staying the night, not for sex or cuddling.

He clenches his jaw and his hand tightens on the steering wheel but he doesn't look her way. "Really?"

"Yes, _really_ ," she repeats, an edge to her tone as she signals for him to stay in the center lane. He barely bites back a sigh as he complies with her order, and she tries not to feel too petty at the vindictive pleasure she feels.

"Fine."

" _Fine._ "

They finish the rest of the drive in silence.

* * *

 "You don't have to walk me in, you know." She glares at him from across the elevator, tapping her foot anxiously as she waits for it arrive at her floor.

"Humor me," he retorts, refusing to budge as he waits for her to unlock the door, then shoulders his way into her two-bedroom apartment, watching her punch in her alarm code.

"Gonna check the bedrooms? Make sure there's no one around? I guess you're better than a gated apartment building and the security system and guard-"

When she pauses for a breath, Mike finally speaks, his tone stern and body language stiff.

"Are you done?"

"I-" She gapes at his tone as if _he's_ the one angry. "No, I'm not!" She's arguing for the sake of arguing but she doesn't care about logic right now.

"Well, you've had the last half an hour so now it's my turn. You're angry? I don't care," he says, emphasizing and pausing at each word and watching her mouth drop open at his supposed audacity. "That's right, Baker. I don't give a shit about the press or how many people had their cameras out or what Amelia will say. If someone fucking _comes at you_ in front of me, I am gonna punch their fucking lights out. You got it?" When she sputters at his statement, he just continues barreling on. "I don't care if it's now or next week or when I'm eighty with a walker, if I see it, I am not gonna walk away."

"Mike-" she begins, but he interrupts her this time.

"Nope, still my turn, Baker. People can say whatever they want from their sad profiles on the Internet and scream shit from the stands, but he _grabbed_ you, Ginny. He touched you." Mike releases a shuddering breath at the memory, at the way the inebriated asshole had spouted sexist insults at Ginny as they were making their way out of the restaurant, then dared to dart forward to yank her arm as if to hit her.

"I love you, Ginny, and I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you."

He takes a deep breath, sees her standing there still speechless. "Okay. I'm gonna go now so you can cool down. But FYI, I'm not apologizing, not for this. So you can call me tomorrow, we can get lunch or something."

With one final nod in her direction, he turns for the door.

But she reaches out and grabs the back of his leather jacket before he makes it two steps.

"Mike," she says, her voice low and quiet, maybe even trembling, and she sniffs, as if fighting for control.

That's what does Mike in, making him turn around and examine her, his face falling when he sees the tears in her eyes and her quivering bottom lip. He moves forward to envelope her in his arms, his big frame pulling her tiny one close so she's nearly on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around his waist and holds on tight.

"I'm sorry," she whispers into the leather of his jacket, and he hears her choke back a sob and it breaks his heart into a dozen pieces.

"Ginny." Her name is said as a solemn vow, his hands running up and down her back. It hits him all over again just how _small_ she is, such a giant on the field but nothing but a woman in his arms.

He takes a dozen steps back with her still in his arms so he can take a seat on the couch, pulling her up into his arms, draping her long legs over his lap and cradling her head into his chest. He moves aside her hair, feels the wetness of her tears and curses under his breath.

"Babe, look at me."

But she just shakes her head, his shirt muffling the sound of her breathing and the occasional sob. He runs a big hand over her back, reassuring her through it, waiting until her breathing evens and she falls quiet.

"Look at me, Ginny," he orders and she complies. When she looks up, it's with tear-stained cheeks and watery, red eyes. Her eyes avoid his in embarrassment. "You never have to be brave with me, okay, just be yourself." The statement makes her eyes fill with tears again and she just nods as a few fall down her cheeks. Before she can move, Mike's there, his fingers warm on her face as he smooths back her messy hair, feeling a little too clumsy in the moment but needing to wipe away her tears.

"I'm not going anywhere, alright?" When she nods, he adjusts their position, moving further back on the couch so he can drag her up in his arms, their faces close together with his arms still around her. She's basically on top of him so they can fit on the couch, their bodies angled towards the back of the sofa so they don't fall off. He kicks off his shoes and Ginny does the same with her heels, curling her legs up and finally meeting his gaze.

"You okay?" he asks softly, one hand continuing to move over her back, the other up and down the bare skin of her arms as if to ease away the fears and tension from her body, to put some warmth back into the evening.

She nods against him, takes a deep breath and curls herself into him. "Yeah. I'm glad you were there," she admits.

"God, me too," he says, dropping a kiss in her hair as he goes cold thinking of the alternatives if she'd been alone, no one at her side. The scenarios running through his head of different locations and events and situations makes his blood curdle with fear. His hands tighten around her as he tries to reign in his emotions and focus solely on her and salvaging what's left of their evening together. They only get so many date nights during the season and he's not about to waste a precious night together.

"Although, I mean, who else would you be on a date with except the great Mike Lawson?"

Ginny lets loose a huff of laugher and Mike gives himself a point for getting the mood of the evening back on track.

"You never know, I get a lot of fan mail, you know," she teases back. But her hands tighten possessively around his waist as if she can't imagine holding anyone but him.

"Oh, yeah? A lot of sixteen-year-olds askin' you to prom?"

"Actually, yes!" Ginny exclaims with a giggle, shaking her head. "It's weird."

"Not so weird if you're a sixteen-year-old guy," he says, eyeing her up and down with his signature smirk and releasing a low whistle. "Ginny Baker in a prom dress."

"Oh no, did I put some depraved prom fantasy in your head, Lawson?" She rolls her eyes at him but the smile remains on her face, her hand running up and down his broad chest, fingers drawing idle patterns.

"Not depraved," he tells her. "We're gonna have to get you a tiara."

She slaps at his shoulder playfully, rolling her eyes as she bends down to give him a kiss. She lingers there, her mouth fusing against his, reciprocating his every movement and sighing with pleasure as his tongue caresses the corners of her mouth. The kiss manages to take the last shred of worry out of her expression and he smiles up at her, watches as she smiles back.

"I love you, Lawson," she tells him, her hand cradling his face, fingertips carding through his beard gently.

He smiles back, puts on his cocky persona that always makes her laugh, adds in a wink for good measure. "I know. That's why I'm gonna get my depraved prom fantasy."

She laughs again, pushing at him playfully but not wanting him to budge one bit. "Thought you said it wasn't depraved!"

"I lied."

She just snuggles closer to him, her hand running up and down the soft leather of his jacket as if to calm him, but it's really calming her. He plays with the ends of her hair, enjoys just holding her close, smelling her date night perfume and the feel of her silk maxi dress against his skin. Usually they're in such a rush to get clothes off, he couldn't tell you anything about the fabric content of her outfit.

But there is one thing he has to ask regarding the incident to ruin their peaceful silence.

"Baker, is this shit still happening on the road too? Because if you haven't told me-"

"No!" she assures him, propping herself up on his chest so he can see her face clearly and see for himself she's telling the truth. "It's calmed down now, I mean, it's been years since I was called up. People are over it by now. This was just a freak incident. Plus, on the road, I’m never alone. Either out with the guys or in my hotel room. You remember that."

"Okay." He relaxes again, accepting her answer but she's sure he'll be talking to Blip and a few other Padres tomorrow to confirm. "Because, to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind working as your hired security. I mean, watching your perfect ass all day? Sounds like my dream job."

She shakes her head at him, nuzzling her nose against his as she drops a soft kiss on his lips.

"There's that smile," he murmurs, rubbing his thumb along her dimples, cradling her face in both hands as he deepens the kiss.

She moves so she's laying on top of him, but there's nothing sexual about it; it's more cozy and comforting, feeling the warmth of his body all along hers, making her feel warm and safe. She matches his passion as they kiss, pouring her feelings into it and running her hands through his hair to keep him close.

She jolts back from him when a harsh, glaring beeping sound fills the air, and she puts a hand to her chest in surprise. Releasing a deep breath, she reaches into her dress pocket for her phone, silencing it immediately.

"It's Amelia." She sighs and stares pointedly at Mike.

"Forget about her," he tells her, taking her phone and tossing it gently on the floor, along with his own from his back pocket. "Forget about everyone. Come here."

He tugs her back up his body and she lays down again, her smile much more serene now that their phones won't be interrupting. He cradles her face gently, fingers running through her hair softly as his lips move back and forth over her own, his tongue meeting hers over and over again. He's starting to breathe hard but he keeps it slow, pausing every now and then for a deep breath, but refusing to budge from her mouth as his hands caress up and down her back.

"Mike," she moans, arching closer to him, tugging at his hair as she returns each nibble of his teeth and swipe of his tongue. It's soft and lazy, passionate and so sweet at the same time, all she wants to do is burrow closer to him, hold him close and kiss him again and again.

So that's exactly what she does.

"Yeah, Baker?" The words are murmured against her lips as he never breaks contact.

"Let's just stay like this," she whispers, not raising her voice as if it might ruin the mood.

Maybe Mike agrees because his voice is hushed as he answers her back, clearing his throat first so he can speak. "You mean make out like horny teenagers on the couch? Sounds good to me." His hand reaches down to graze the curve of her ass but moves back up immediately, not wanting to pressure her for more, enjoying exactly what they're doing in the moment.

She giggles, nuzzling her nose into his beard and smiling at him. He marvels at how even from three inches away she's so damn beautiful, not a flaw in sight. Sometimes he can't believe she's not a supermodel instead of a ballplayer.

"You sure you remember how? You haven't been a teenager since like, the '80s." She pokes at his chest playfully and grins when he winces, not from her jabs, but more from her classic age-related joke.

"Jeez, way to be kind to your knight in shining armor. I get no respect around here, I tell ya." But he's smiling as he says it, happy to have gotten at least one old man Lawson joke out of her tonight.

"I respect you," she says, kissing him again, wrapping herself around him so she's plastered to his front. Then she grins mischievously to add, "I always respect my elders."

That's two old man jokes. He considers the night saved.

Doesn't mean he won't retaliate.

He reaches out to run his fingers up and down her ribcage, tickling right where he knows she'll squeal and shriek and push him away. He enjoys the view for a few seconds before letting her go, waiting for her peals of laughter to quiet down.

"No fair, that's playing dirty," she accuses as she laces their fingers together so his hands are occupied.

"Well, yeah, Baker, that's me, I'm a dirty old man." He nuzzles at her neck because he can't palm her ass like he wants since his hands are holding something better: her.

She scrunches her nose at him, shaking her head at his comment and leaning down to kiss him again, her lips moving back and forth, tongue teasing and probing, just the right amount of tension and pressure to leave him breathless.

"Not a dirty old man. Just my man."

This time he forces a hand free to cradle her face, tracing the dimples of her smile as he smiles softly back.

"Yeah," he murmurs in agreement, "that sounds about right."


	7. 2022 welcome home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny's family welcomes her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E!
> 
> Thanks to those who commented last chapter, I really appreciated it and reminded me to update :)

"And the girls had dinner okay?"

"Ginny," he says softly and she holds her phone tighter as if to get closer to that voice. 

"I'm just asking! I mean, not everyone loves your spaghetti and meatballs, you know, and Sara is a picky eater, and-"

"She ate fine," he says again in that soft, reassuring tone that silences her immediately. "They both did. They're fast asleep."

"Oh. Okay. Good." Her voice is quieter now, as if losing all its energy now that she knows both girls are down for the night, tucked away in dreamland and not thinking about her one bit. 

f

Mike sighs deeply on the other end of the phone line. She can just imagine him in sweats and an old Padres t-shirt, stretched out on his side of the bed. The sight of his bare feet would always make her heart quicken, something so domestic about it as he checked the scores before bed and she put on lotion, smiling to herself as she saw him sneaking looks of her rubbing up and down her arms and legs. 

"Gin, babe, come on, don't break my heart."

"I'm not," she says, but catches herself sniffling anyway. "I just... I miss you guys."

"I know. We miss you too." 

His voice is low and husky, goes right through her as if caressing her. She can just imagine him saying the words as he cuddles her close and she nearly tears up at the visual, at the ghostly feel of his hands on her. He loves to play with her hair, one hand running up and down her pitching arm as if soothing it before bed. It always makes her smile, makes her snuggle in closer to him. 

"The first stretch of away games is killer," she tells him with a sigh. "I just keep imagining you guys all day, and what you're doing..."

"Well, I'm not doing anything fun at work all day," he teases, "so it's just whatever the rugrats and Anna are up to." 

Ginny chuckles. "They have fun."

"Yeah, they do," Mike agrees, thankful to their nanny for sending photos to the group chat all day. 

"Is it just me?" she wonders out loud, staring up at the hotel ceiling, frowning to herself. "Is it just because I'm a girl?"

Mike sighs again. "I don't know anything about biology, Baker. But I admit, when I think about our positions being reversed, it makes me sick to my stomach imagining leaving you all too."

"Oh, so it's fine if I leave?"

"Well, yeah." And she can imagine those big broad shoulders of his shrugging as he admits it. "Then I can just be the hot feminist husband home with the kids who supports his working wife. Gets me a lot of brownie points with the soccer moms on the block, Baker."

Ginny laughs, and he chuckles too, just pleased to have her smiling instead of the sad voice that was going to haunt him all night long. 

"There's that laugh," he murmurs. "I miss you, Ginny."

And there's his tone, the one that's not about the family or the girls or how dinner and bedtime went. This one is all Mike, and all for Ginny. She bites her lower lip, lets loose the tiniest of whimpers as she closes her eyes to imagine him next to him, his strong arms holding her close, his legs entangled with hers under the sheets. 

"I miss you too," she whispers into the phone, not bothering to wipe away the tear that rolls down her cheek. "I have to get used to sleeping without you again."

"The offseason, I tell ya, it's so sweet and so cruel at the same time," he comments wisely, like the man of experience he is. "Just two more days until you're home, Gin, and I'll wake you up with my head between your legs."

She giggles a little at the promise, maybe because it's so sweet and maybe because she's sleep deprived and just misses him so much, dirty promises and all. "I'll do the same to you."

"Yeah?" She knows if this was a video call she could see the darkening of his eyes, the way he'd be swallowing hard at her words. "You spread out on your back, me driving into you. I cannot wait."

"Mike," she whines, her breath hitching at the visual. "I'm trying to fall asleep here."

He chuckles and she savors the sound, tells herself she'll carry it with her the remaining two days, will listen to it over and over as she sits in the dugout waiting for the game to end. Never thought she'd see the day she can't wait for the innings to finish so she can make it home, but since they had Maddy, and now Sara, she just can't wait to get home after every game. Ever since it became her and Mike, actually. She can’t help but feel incomplete out there, her heart aching to rush home to him. 

"Not up for some late night fun?" His voice is like silk, almost tempts her to say yes and slip her hand down her shorts, but sleep overpowers her. She hasn't slept well all week and finally, her eyes win the battle even as her pulse hums at the sound of his voice. 

"Nope. Sleepy," she murmurs. Then thinking she should at least feign being a considerate wife even if she's a thousand miles away, she asks, "But do you need me to-"

He chuckles, low and seductive, and she unconsciously rolls her hips at the sound. "No, I'm good. All I need is to think of that last night at the beach. You in that string bikini, riding me for an hour, hair all over the place, soaking wet..."

"Mike," she says again, shaking her head even as she blushes from three states away remembering their family vacation from last month. "You're just trying to get me all worked up."

"No, Baker, I'm trying to get _me_ all worked up," he comments, and she holds her breath as she hears the sounds of his labored breathing, of hand against skin, of a few muffled curse words and a deep groan as he comes.

"Mike," she almost scolds, even as she bites her lip to contain her desire as she listens to the sounds of him cleaning up. "You- you- you better change the sheets before I get home!"

He chuckles and she grins. "Yeah, I'll get right on that, Gin. You need me to talk you to sleep?"

"Yes, please." She snuggles into the unfamiliar pillow, sighing at how it's a little too hard, misses using Mike's chest as her personal pillow. From their very first night together it was the perfect softness and firmness, her ideal preference all rolled into one. Funny how things worked out, how some things are just meant to be. 

Two more days. One more night. 

"Just ten more minutes and I'll be out," she says sleepily.

"Take as long as you need, Ginny, I'm right here."

* * *

 

 

She's making her way through the airport, speed walking to get past everyone and to the exit to find a cab, when suddenly something launches at her legs, holding her in place. She quickly tugs out her earphones and drops her bag, looks down and-

"Maddy!" She bends down to grab the two-and-a-half-year-old in surprise, grinning even as she looks around in wonder. "What are you doing here? Where's Anna? Did you run away again, oh god, what have I told you-"

"Relax, Baker, she's with me."

Ginny turns to see Mike coming up behind them with the stroller, a fond smile on his face as he watches the mother-daughter reunion. 

"We surprised you!" Maddy exclaims proudly, sharing a grin with her father at the smooth execution of their plan. 

"Yes, you did," Ginny says, kissing her forehead and cheeks, tugging at her adorably lopsided pigtails. "You did."

She moves to the stroller, Maddy still in her arms, but Maddy stops her with a hiss. "No, Mommy, she's sleeping."

"Fell asleep in the car," Mike explains as Ginny bends down to kiss the sleeping ten-month-old, wiping away the drool on her cheek. "Couldn't take the excitement."

One last kiss to Sara's curls, because whether she's asleep or awake, she's still here and it's been a long week without them, she rises to meet Mike, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his shoulders. 

"Just couldn't wait, huh?"

Before he can reply back with something snappy, she kisses him, her lips taking the lead, commanding control of his, kissing him passionately until they're left panting. Maddy giggles in her arms, and Mike reaches to hug them both, his beard brushing at her ear as he murmurs, "Jeez, Baker, keep it in your pants. We're in public."

"Shut up." She just laughs, kisses him one more time and pushes him back towards the stroller, hitching Maddy higher in her arms and making the little girl squeal with laughter. "Let's go home."

* * *

The evening was filled with Ginny's favorite shrimp tacos for dinner, two helpings of ice cream for dessert, an extra long storytime and bathtime, and lots of cuddles before the girls drifted off to bed well after their usual bedtime.

"I think we've figured out the secret to getting them to go down quick, just a trip to the airport and chase them around the backyard for another half hour." She's just finishing the dishes and wiping her hands when she senses him nearby, inhales with anticipation knowing he's making his way towards her. 

Sure enough, he comes up behind her, hands coming around her to trap her against the sink, close enough that she can feel his hard on through his sweats and the thin fabric of her pajama shorts. She whimpers and arches back, rubs her ass against him and knows all it took was these two seconds to get her soaking wet. 

"Come here, Ginny," he murmurs in her ear, and she turns around, wraps her arms around his neck and just leans against him as he drags her to the living room. 

His big hands cradle her ass, one finger rubbing slowly at her slit and she moans, licks her lips as his eyes darken at the sounds she's making. He pushes her down at the end of the couch, leaning her back against the armrest, but before she can reach for him to kiss him, he's disposed of her shorts and is holding her knees firmly apart. She shivers as she feels the air on her exposed parts but he's holding her open, doesn't let her budge an inch. 

"Oh my god, Mike." 

"Now, it's Mommy and Daddy time," he murmurs, winking at her before he dives in. 

She's not even ashamed to say its embarrassingly quick. She's not timing herself but all it takes is a few flicks of his tongue, scratches of his beard, sucks on her clit. He's just slid a finger inside her and placed his mouth there to start the rhythm all over again but she's already coming, her body arching, her legs tightening around his face, hands pulling at his hair to stop the sensations because it's too much. 

"God, you're good for my ego," he says with a chuckle as he wipes his mouth with his shirt and moves to kiss her. He tastes of her, his body draped over her on the couch, his hips already thrusting against her so she can feel his hard on through his sweatpants. 

"Great," she says sarcastically, "just what the world needs, to inflate that tiny ego of yours." But she can't hide the giddy smile of relief and bliss on her face as she kisses him eagerly, her hands caressing his beard, her legs wrapped around him. She's sure she's leaving a wet spot against the front of his pants but she doesn't care, and from the way his breath is hitching, she knows he doesn't care either. 

"Don't worry, I'm gonna be embarrassingly quick too, once I'm inside of you," he tells her, breaking the kiss to tug her up, hands wrapped around her waist as he leads her towards the stairs. His hips continue to rut against her and she groans as she searches for that friction. "Come on, babe, get that sweet ass upstairs for me."

As they make their way upstairs, stopping plenty of places to make out against a wall or dispose of an item of clothing, they're both ready and panting. Mike basically pushes her down on the bed, eyes dark with lust in the dim light of their bedroom as he disposes of his briefs and looks down at her. She bites her lip and gets on her knees, moves forward so she can kiss him again, her hands sliding down to caress his cock. She moans at the feel of him, how he's already slippery wet, how he drops his head to rest on her shoulder as he breathes through her long, tender strokes. 

"Gin," he warns, his hands tight at her waist, fingers caressing the curve of her ass. 

"I'm just saying hi," she giggles, kissing along his broad shoulders. "I missed him almost as much I missed your face."

"The beard missed you too," he teases, rubbing his face along her neckline to make her squirm. 

"No, not the beard." She laughs, arches herself up and rubs her entire body along his naked one to meet his eyes, her hands caressing that beard she claims to despise so much. "Your face," she whispers, dropping a kiss everywhere she can: his forehead, the apples of his cheeks, his chin, his eyebrows, his lips. "I still look for you everywhere I turn, even after all these years."

The confession seems to spring free something deep and primal within him, his jaw tightening with emotion and purpose as he uses his strong body to push her backwards. His hips pin her knees open so he can thrust right into her with one stroke. She whimpers so loud she's scared the girls might have heard, bites her lower lip to keep quiet as she gets used to the size and breadth and width of him all over again. Her hands find their usual spot on his shoulders, holding him close as she meets his gaze, murmuring against his lips. 

"Oh god, Mike. So good."

"Yeah?" He nips at her earlobe, rubs his lips down her throat, his beard scratching against her soft skin again. This time she doesn't mind, just pants in pleasure and pulls him closer, and he does it again as his big hands play with her breasts. "That good?"

She nods as she does her part, hitching her legs higher up his waist, moving her hips as much as she can in unison to his thrusts as the feelings overwhelm her. Sweat drips down her front, her body arching to get closer to his. Skin to skin doesn't even feel close enough when it comes to reuniting with Mike. "More. Faster."

He chuckles weakly. "If I go any faster, I'm gonna be done in thirty seconds flat."

"I don't care." She slides herself up the bed a little further, rubs her foot up and down his calf and digs her nails into his ass to urge him to move. "It's been a week for you too. You deserve it."

"So sweet."

"Shut up," she says, slapping at his shoulder. "Go, Mike, I want it fast."

He nods at her, follows her instructions as he picks up the pace, his hands holding her shoulders for leverage. "If you're gonna come again, now would be a good time," he mutters between thrusts, his forehead resting against hers as he looks into her eyes. 

She moans, arches her body a little more, smiling when he muffles a curse as her hard nipples brush his chest over and over again. She spreads her legs a little, trying to find that spot, humming as she pushes at his shoulders to adjust him. "Just move a little to your- _oh,_ there, right there." She moans, low and dirty, and his eyes light up at the sound, his hips moving even faster as if it was the fuel he needed. "Oh god, Mike, Mike."

"That's my name, don't wear it out," he murmurs, and she bursts into laughter, shaking her head at him. "Maddy's new catchphrase. Was cute the first day, now it's just damn annoying."

"Okay, you're damn annoying if you don't finish," she says, poking at his ribs, grinning at him as she stretches a leg higher up his back so the angle deepens. "Does someone need a little blue pill?"

"Fuck you, Baker." He nips at her bottom lip, kissing her fiercely, his tongue mapping out all the corners of her mouth as one hand moves to tug at her clit. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out."

"That's what I'm waiting for," she teases, fingernails digging into his skin, her mouth returning to his to kiss him through his thrusts, to capture his groans and grunts, to hide her moans. 

And that's exactly what he does. His hips thrust harder and harder until she's clinging to him and the last bit of her clarity before another orgasm leaves her breathless. Her thighs clench, body arches, her nails dig into his scalp as she pants through it, all the while aware he's still thrusting and hard inside her. It's not a second later until she's overwhelmed with the feel of Mike coming too. His low voice, his hands tightening, muffled curses against her throat, the feeling of him inside her as he fills her then goes limp and relaxes on top of her, entire body going soft as he just lays there and takes gulping breaths. 

"Mhmm, that was good." She runs a hand through his sweaty hair, tugging his head up so she can smile at him and kiss his lips. "A+."

He chuckles weakly as he turns his body just the slightest, dragging her to his side so they can lay staring at each other, their bodies touching from nose to toes, her one leg still wrapped around his waist. 

"A+ to you too," he just says, taking her hand and kissing her palm right by her wedding ring, making her smile at the frequent, heartfelt gesture he does. "Welcome home, Ginny."

She leans in to kiss him again and again, moaning with pleasure as he runs his hand up and down her back, as if massaging all the kinks and knots from her time away. "Do you remember when it was just us?"

"You mean, you and me?" Mike gestures between them and she nods with a grin. "Yeah, I remember those days. I would basically have you naked on your back and be inside you the second we walked into the house." 

Ginny giggles, her hand brushing up and down his chest as she recalls the first few years of their passion-filled relationship before the kids came along. "Yeah. I mean, we just... did it everywhere. It was very unsanitary."

"Fun, Baker," he says with a grin, "I think the word you're looking for is _fun._ Spreading you out on the kitchen counter every chance I got, that was fun."

How she blushes from a memory years old she doesn't know, but she does, burrowing her head into his shoulder and shaking her head at the assault of pleasant memories hitting her at once, waking her body up for round two. "What about when I would sneak up on you when you were cooking?" 

He drops a kiss on her mouth, his eyes twinkling at the memory. "God, yes. Your sneaky blow jobs. I burned many a meal in the beginning before remembering to switch the flame off first thing. You should pay for those groceries."

"Bill me," she whispers, kissing him again, grinning against his mouth as she rubs her body against his, draping herself across him. "You're right. It was fun."

He nods, runs a hand through her hair to tug her closer. "And now, we've got a whole different kind of fun with picky eaters and storytime and mopping water off the floor after bathtime."

Ginny just nods again, smiling at him. "Yup. Life's funny, isn't it?"

"Hilarious. Thought so the second I started falling for a Padre."

She just laughs and kisses him as she situates herself on top of him, straddling him and beginning to rub herself right where she wants him, moaning as he seems to harden right away.

"Mike Lawson the dad," she says with a hum. "Buzzfeed should thank me for creating that version. You were on their hunkiest baseball dads list, you know."

Mike just snorts, swats her on the ass playfully. "Shut up. Buzzfeed is trash."

"No, it's true. Mike Lawson still makin' the ladies of San Diego swoon," she teases. 

"I don't need the ladies of San Diego," he tells her, hands on her hips to rub her against his cock a few times before sinking her down on him. "I've got a house full of fangirls right here."

"Yeah, you do," she tells him, nipping at his ear as she begins to move, slowly and leisurely, all the time in the world now that the initial rush is out of the way. They can banter and tease, touch and graze each other, take it slow and fall asleep tangled together in a sweaty mess. 

They have all night long because Ginny's home and she has nowhere to be but in his arms. 


	8. 2025 hot tub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Ginny enjoy a late night date in the hot tub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happened to have a hot tub oneshot written last week so had to post it while I'm squeeing over Netflix's latest rom com _To All the Boys I've Loved Before_ and its own hot tub scene!! :D This jumps further into the future. Rated M. Comments most welcome!

"Oh god, that feels _so_ good," Ginny moans.

"Yeah?"

She nods and arches her back further. "Yes, right there, right there."

Mike bites back a smile and holds her shoulders firmly so she's in front of the jets of the hot tub, the water pressure relieving the aches of her lower back after a long day.

"Told you this would help."

"You were right," she admits. "I just didn't think you'd order one the same day! I told you our tub is fine."

"Yeah, maybe but I know you're tired by the end of the day, you just get into bed. It's not like the girls give you much alone time. Plus, this is way bigger, the kids love it."

Ginny just shakes her head at his excuses. She'd casually mentioned how Ev told her to come over any time and use their hot tub to help with her back pain, and that night, there was the delivery guy knocking on their door with the surprise. "You're ridiculous."

"Sweet, I think that's the word you're looking for, Baker," he tells her. "It was supposed to be a sweet gesture."

She bites her lip and stares at him fondly, holding her arms out for him to come closer. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, kissing him gently, straddling him underwater so she's sitting in his lap. "It was sweet. Very sweet. I'm still not used to just buying what I want, even after all these years."

"Give it another couple years," he tells her, brushing away strands of hair that have escaped from her ponytail, "and you'll be throwing your money around like me."

"No, you don't," she tells him softly, hands running up and down his biceps and broad shoulders, leaning close to kiss him cheek. "You take care of your mom. You help with so many good causes. You spoil us rotten. Like this surprise." She arches her back against the wall of the jacuzzi, moaning in delight again when the warm water and jets hit at her lower back. "I don't know why my back has been killing me so much this pregnancy. The other two were a breeze."

"Well, apparently you're carrying low," he says, his hands running softly over her baby bump under the water, his voice teasing. "And you're old now. Way past your prime childbearing years."

She drops her mouth open at the comment, pushes him away and splashes water at him in indignation. "I can't believe you! You are not sweet at all! I take it back."

Mike just grins and crowds her against the wall, hands rubbing up and down her legs, her swollen stomach, anywhere he can reach underwater. He bends down and kisses her, tongue sweeping against the seam of her lips to deepen the kiss and explore her mouth, knowing exactly what she likes and how to make her breathless. Her hands clutch at his shoulders, holding him close, moaning as arousal hits her everywhere all at once: between her legs, her heavy breasts, her stomach fluttering with butterflies like she's twenty-six and he's kissed her for the first time all over again.

She opens her eyes, looks up at him in a daze, panting as she moves closer to him, her sports bra brushing against his bare chest. "I forgive you. Whatever it was you said."

He chuckles and kisses her on the forehead, his hands moving to her back to massage there underwater. She arches into his fingers, nodding in thanks.

"Come on, you know you're still way too young for me." He glances down at her breasts, her newly defined cleavage demanding all his attention. "And way too hot for me too," he murmurs, bending down to cup and kiss her breasts.

His beard tickles, and she arches back, even as she holds him close, fingers digging into his scalp to lift his head back up so she can kiss him again.

"Whatever. You know you're smokin’, don't fish for compliments." Her hands wrap around his well-defined abdomen and she settles herself more comfortably in his lap as he just chuckles at her teasing. "Now, are you ready for the last bawson baby?" She giggles in amusement at their mashed up couple name they can't get shake off, even eight years and two kids later. In fact, it's kinda grown on them and they find themselves using the hashtag with fondness.

Mike just smiles and caresses her baby bump. "Ready. Just two more months, babe, then I'm sure the aches and cramps will go away."

"I know." She kisses his cheek for the sweet reassurance. "I'm not worried, I've got you taking care of me."

He continues to stare at her in awe, hands running all over her bump, shaking his head at her in wonder. "Baby girl bawson," he breathes out with a smile. "I... you're amazing, Ginny."

"Mike." She scoffs and rolls her eyes, because seriously, he gets so emotional when she's pregnant, as if he's the one flooded with extra hormones making him sentimental. She loves the attention even if she's embarrassed by it sometimes, worrying he puts her on too high a pedestal simply for being his wife and mother of his kids. "Stop. Do not get sappy on me."

"Not getting sappy." He shakes his head at her but his hands continue to caress up and down her calves, knowing that's where she's been getting some cramps this last trimester of her pregnancy. "Just... you're making me a dad all over again. We already have two perfect daughters. You just keep making my dreams come true."

"Mike." She throws her arms around him, holds him close as she kisses all over his forehead and cheeks. "Stop it. You're my dream come true. Our family is. No one..." She takes a deep breath and looks in his eyes, holding him close in the warm water of their brand new hot tub in their backyard at ten o'clock on a Sunday night. "No one's ever loved me like you do."

"Ginny." He whispers her name, pulls her out of the water and into his arms, splashing all over the place as she sits straddling him under the night sky. She wraps her arms around him and kisses him fiercely, moaning with pleasure as he does the same, his big hands holding her close and rubbing circles along her lower back. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles at her neck, wrapping his arms so tight around her that she squirms to take a breath. "No one's loved me like you do either."

She grins at him, finding herself unconsciously rocking on top of him, her body automatically waking up when this close in his proximity. She holds his face in her hands, rubbing their noses together affectionately, as she continues to smile at him. The warm water laps around them, the jets making soothing waves, the night sky above the backyard patio providing the perfect backdrop to their late night conversation and cuddling.

"You sure you don't care that it's another girl? I mean, we can try one more time for a boy-"

"Hey," he says sternly, hands tightening around her waist in response. "I don't care about that. I think I'm just destined to be surrounded by beautiful Baker women my whole life." Ginny snorts at that but lets him continue talking as his hands drift up and down the curve of her ass. "We decided this is good, right? No more interruptions in your career, we close up shop. Plus," he sighs and grimaces, "I'm gettin' old, Gin."

"No." She shakes her head, frowning at him. "We are not talking about this. You're not even fifty-" But she doesn't get to finish the number before he covers her mouth with his hand, glaring at her.

"Don't say it out loud. Makes it way too real."

She just licks his hand in retaliation, biting softly at the skin of his palm. When he moves his hand away, she leans closer to him, kissing him softly to soothe away his insecurities. "As I was _saying_ , you're still five years away from that number. You're in perfect health minus your stupid knees and back. You've got a baby on the way and two kids who keep you running after them. And, you've got me to keep satisfied." She wraps her legs tight around his waist, hitching herself closer so she can feel his cock through the fabric of their swimsuit bottoms. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip on her as she begins to rock on top of him. "So, yeah, don't go looking into nursing homes just yet."

Mike just chuckles, watching with growing desire in his eyes as she continues to grind against him. His hands cradle her breasts, nuzzling across her chest then up her neck to kiss her again. "Hey, Ginny," he murmurs against her mouth just as his hand slides down the back of her bikini bottoms and towards her center. "One thing that's the same with all your pregnancies... you're horny as hell in two seconds, and I can make you come in three."

Ginny drops her mouth open in a moan as soon as she feels him push two fingers into her, rubbing at her opening. She can feel her wetness, can feel the water, can feel him. It's a whirlpool of sensations and she whimpers at it all surrounding her at once, can do nothing to fight it so she just rides her fingers, clutching his shoulders for leverage.

"Oh, god. _Mike._ "

"Hot. So hot," he murmurs, looking into her eyes and continuing to grind her down into his lap even as his fingers work in her too. "Keep going. I can make you come just like this."

Ginny glares at him for his smugness, but he just smirks at her, dares her to disagree. She continues to grind down on him, feeling the hardness of him, realizing that he's tugged down his swim trunks so she can feel his bare cock right against her tiny bikini bottoms. "Oh my god."

"That's right, keep going, I got you." He nips at her bottom lip and uses both hands to slam her down against her cock even harder, over and over again, grinning as she opens her mouth in a silent scream. He leans in to kiss her sloppily, not stopping his rhythm and all, and it's so fucking dirty, all tongue and heat and the rhythm in her mouth matching him against her pussy, that she whimpers out loud, arches herself back and comes in a silent roar, falling against his chest in a heap of tired limbs. She moans, burrows her head against his shoulder and shivers at her sudden depletion of energy. She feels him wrap his arms around her, and sneaks a look up at him.

"That was more than three seconds."

Mike throws his head back and laughs, standing up in the water and hoisting Ginny up too. She continues to lean against him and he grabs a towel from the chair next to them and wraps it around her.

"Fine. You win, it was more than three. Now let's get you upstairs for round two."

* * *

 "Hey," he asks quietly, a hand roaming over her bare shoulder an hour later when she's curled up against his side, "I forgot to ask. Does your back feel better?"

Ginny's half asleep, but she opens her eyes, nods up at him and pulls him down for another kiss. "Yeah, yeah, it does. We're keeping the hot tub."

Mike just grins and kisses her back, tugs her closer, slowly massaging her back until she falls asleep.


	9. 2019 bus accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Evelyn anxiously wait for a call from Blip and Ginny after the Padres team bus is an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those commenting!! :')

"They're fine, they're fine," Evelyn repeats even as she paces the front office and wrings her hands in anxiety. "I would know- I would- he's my husband. I would know if something happened. He's fine."

Mike just leans against the wall, arms crossed as he stares at her, a silent figure in the madness of the room of wives and girlfriends buzzing about waiting for some information from the front office staff about the accident the team bus had been in.

"Mike! Say something," Evelyn orders, just like she orders her restaurant staff to get in line late on a Friday night or hand their name tag in and get out.

"They're fine, Ev. It was a minor accident. We're just waiting for the call."

And they're still been waiting an hour after getting to the office. Something about a late night collision, the team went to the hospital to be checked over, and they'd been waiting for news since. Mike had picked up Evelyn as soon as he got the call from a friend in the front office and they'd hightailed it to the stadium to wait for any updates.

And if they didn't get any soon, Mike was about to fuck it all and drive the five hours to the hospital, instructions from management be damned.

Evelyn's phone rings and she answers it, puts it on speaker and ushers Mike forward to hear.

"Blip? Honey?" Her voice is strong but her expression wavers in dread. Mike wraps an arm around her shoulder and squeezes, pulling her in tight.

"Babe, I'm fine," Blip says quickly, and Evelyn lets out a sigh of relief and collapses into Mike's broad chest. "I promise. Everyone's fine. A couple minor injuries, nothing serious. They had us go to a local hospital to get checked out."

"Oh, thank you, Lord," Evelyn breathes out. Then instantly goes into wife mode and snaps at him, "What the hell took so long to call, you jackass?"

Blip chuckles at that and Evelyn and Mike smile shakily at the familiar sound. "Sorry, honey. They took all the luggage off the bus, it was chaos. And as captain I had to check in on everyone. Tell Mike Ginny's fine, she had to get a couple o' stitches-"

"A couple of stitches?" Mike repeats, his voice low and dangerous enough that Evelyn quickly looks up at him. "What the hell do you mean _a couple of stitches?_ "

"Mike, man, I promise, she's fine. I wouldn't lie to you. She fell against some broken glass, just a couple stitches along her leg, I promise, I held her hand myself. Her phone shattered in the crash. Here she is."

There's some shuffling and then Ginny's on the line, her voice tentative and sounding so tiny and unlike herself, but Mike instantly closes his eyes in a prayer of relief to hear it.

"Mike?"

"Ginny," Mike breathes out, and Evelyn gives him a teary-eyed smile. The tears are flowing down her face in relief now that she's been strong for her husband. He takes the phone off speaker so he can hold it to his ear, so he can get as close to his girlfriend's voice as he can. He pulls Evelyn into his side in a brotherly hug as he concentrates completely on the sound of Ginny's breathing. "Are you okay? Tell me the truth."

"Yes, yes," she says quickly, and he can almost see her nodding frantically on the other end of the line. "There was glass, and it was dark, I got cut, but it's fine, I swear. It was just... scary." Her voice is quiet again as she breathes deeply, and he can imagine her doing those breathing exercises her therapist recommends, wonders if she's thinking of another car accident so long ago when she lost her father.

"I'm coming to get you right now," Mike tells her. "What hotel are you-"

"No, no, it's the middle of the night," she interrupts.

"I don't give a fuck. What hotel-"

"Mike, we're fine. And we're leaving first thing in the morning," she relays, and he can hear Blip telling her the new schedule from the other end. "Yeah, we'll be there by like nine in the morning, you can meet the bus. Blip will put it on the map so you guys can trace us. Can you call Amelia for me? She's probably trying to call me."

"Okay, fine."

"Just get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Mike scoffs.

Ginny lets loose a small chuckle, the tiniest sound and he smiles at that, relieved to hear it even from so far away. "Here, let Ev and Blip talk. I'll see you in the morning okay?" She takes a deep breath, albeit shaky. "I love you, okay? So much."

"Baker, not as much as I love you," he says. "Stick with Blip, don't move a muscle. I'll see you in the morning."

He gives Evelyn back the phone, waits until she finishes talking, looks around the room. It's different for sure, being behind the scenes, without the uniform, not a current Padre in sight. Wives and girlfriends, a few moms and dads, anxious and worried, a few crying as they hug one another, many huddled in a corner for privacy to talk to their beloved ballplayer on the phone.

Evelyn steps back towards him, wipes away her tears and gives him a tremulous smile as she pockets her phone. "So, yeah, this is what being the wife of a Padre is like. Not all glitz and glamour. Welcome to the club."

"We're not married."

Evelyn laughs her first laugh of the night, since Mike got to her house with the news of the accident. She shakes her head at him, chuckling even as she links her arm in his and waves at a few of the women as they make their way outdoors into night.

"Yeah, maybe not yet, but tell me you haven't thought about the perfect ring already."

Mike remains stubbornly quiet as they walk to his truck.

Evelyn hums in victory. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

* * *

He's waiting for her.

She sees him in the back of the crowd, leaning against the brick of the parking garage. Behind the wives and girlfriends and of course, the photographers and local news reporters that are on scene to greet the bus. She takes a deep breath, pulls her baseball cap down low and exits single file behind her teammates. Evelyn is up front and she steps into her arms, lets herself be fussed over, and enjoys the feeling of it, like something a mom would do. After promising to come over as soon as she and Mike could, she exchanges smiles with a few other women, nods at Blip who's stuck talking to reporters, and moves towards Mike.

He straightens as she walks his way, looks her up and down as if to inspect every inch of her, though she's completely covered in her Nike top and loose pajama pants. She takes the last few steps at a jog, isn't even aware of it, and launches herself into his arms. He catches her and holds her close, breathing in the smell of her, big hand tenderly cupping the back of her neck.

"Mike," she murmurs into his beard, and he shudders at the sound of her voice, the feel of her breath on his skin.

"Come on," he says, and reluctantly breaks the hug, grabbing her hand to pull her into the parking garage and away from the cameras and their zoom lenses. He walks quickly and she follows, knows that he parks in the back corner for privacy and for an easy exit route out. He guides her to the passenger door of his truck, then he turns her around, backs her up against it and leans down to kiss her.

It's hard and passionate, nothing tentative about his lips, more like frantic and desperate, as he pushes her body back against the cool metal. He crowds her space, hands trailing down her back to hold her close. Ginny lets out the slightest squeak of surprise but then she's returning his every move, her mouth opening to let his tongue meet hers, her hands tugging him closer by the fabric of his t-shirt, legs wrapped around his waist as she itches to get closer, to feel bare skin. They kiss just long enough to get the taste of each other they've been hungry for since yesterday's phone call, but it also gives fuel to a more carnal hunger, one they can't satisfy in public, and certainly not with all these clothes on.

"Mike," Ginny moans, turning her head so his mouth lands by her ear, slowly pushing him away even as she holds tight to his shirt. "Mike."

"I love you, Ginny, I love you so much," he murmurs in her ear, hands cradling her gently as she slowly puts both feet back on the ground.

She blinks up at him, tears coming to her eyes as she rests her forehead against his, just breathes in that familiar scent of his cologne and deodorant that she misses every night on the road. "God, I love you too. But I need you to take me home right now, because there's no way I'm crying here. And I just want to be in your arms when I do."

Mike nods, knows the admission is a tough one for her, but acknowledges how far they've come in nearly a year together. She's always had to be so strong with her robot face on - cool, calm, the perfect ballplayer who didn't feel those pesky emotions that a woman might feel. That she can admit to him without hesitation that she's emotional, that she needs to cry after an exhausting night, and that there's nowhere she wants to be but with him... yeah, that's the most beautiful progress he's ever seen.

He gives her one last kiss, kisses her forehead too just because he can, and opens the door for her, waits until she's buckled in before he makes his way to the driver's side.

Evelyn's right. He's ready to ring shop. Been ready way before he had a right to be. What the hell is he waiting for?


	10. 2018 way too old for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Ginny have a talk about the age difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be much appreciated! I've got a handful more of these to share if people are interested :')
> 
> This follows the mental timeline in my head of them getting together. Since the show aired in 2016, I have them winning the Series in '18, and that's when Mike retires and they get together. So this is very early in their (so far secret) relationship.

"So are you heading home to see family during the off-season, to celebrate?"

Ginny shakes her head. "No, I'm here in San Diego. My mom and brother came out for a week. I might go home for Thanksgiving."

"Then how about dinner? You and me? I'd love to take you out."

Ginny stares at him in silence. "I... oh." She lets loose a nervous little laugh, looking around her as if for an escape route. She sees Mike and Blip hovering nearby, waiting to hear her answer, and she throws a glare at them. All she'd wanted was to grab a drink at their Sports Illustrated cover launch party and of course she has to get hit on. To be fair, the guy has the biggest summer hit on the Billboard charts and a short interview in this month's issue as well, and she's the only Padre there rocking a sequined mini dress.

"There's this great new Asian fusion place that opened," Vince is saying, "if you like Chinese. I hear it's delicious."

"I... thank you," Ginny tells him, smiling softly even as she shakes her head to let him down easy. "But I'm not really seeing people right now, I hope you understand." She shifts awkwardly from one foot to another, prays that something will distract him immediately so she can flee.

"Ah, gotcha. Well, if you're ever free and seeing people again," he winks at her, "give me a call." Ginny just nods, blushing and steadfastly avoiding her teammates' stares. "Congrats again. My little sister loves you. I'm gonna send her the picture right now."

"Thanks," Ginny murmurs, waving awkwardly as he disappears into the crowd. She continues to sip at her drink, ignoring the presence of Blip and Mike as they crowd around her immediately.

"Oh my god, Ginny!" Blip exclaims, in a perfectly high-pitched imitation of his wife. "Why would you say no to him? He's _sooo_ dreamy!"

Ginny shoves him playfully. "Shut up. And don't make fun of your wife."

"I'm not," Blip says quickly, dropping the voice, but glancing behind him to make sure Evelyn isn't around, "I'm genuinely asking. Why'd you turn him down? Young, not hideous, talented, rich..."

"That song is annoying as hell," Mike comments offhandedly, munching on a crab cake.

Blip just guffaws. "Thank you for that incredibly non-biased opinion, Lawson, I'm sure it's coming from a place of real truth."

Mike just shrugs, continues to ignore Ginny as he looks around the crowded room. "Whatever. Now it's gonna be stuck in my head though, dammit."

Ginny just laughs, pushes them both forward to the bar. "Come on. I want another drink."

* * *

Mike's quiet the whole ride home, but she figures he's nostalgic about all the attention, and the cover reveal, the team photos inside and the one page dedicated to the Padres outgoing Captain. She can't imagine the emotions going through him, absolute elation at their World Series win and heartache at his Padres journey ending, so she just holds his hand, hums along to the radio, doesn't comment until he's walking her up to her apartment.

She wraps herself around him the second the door slams shut behind them, leaning up even in her heels to pull him close and give him a long, deep kiss.

"Mmm, hi," she says with a smile.

"Hey, Baker," he responds with a smirk, hands wrapping around her immediately, resting at the curve of her ass.

"Aren't you a gentleman," she murmurs, dropping kisses along his jaw, nimble fingers already unbuttoning his dress shirt, "walking me to my door and everything."

"What can I say, it's a generational thing," he replies, just the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice.

But maybe she imagined it because when she peers up at him, he's the same old Mike, cool as a cucumber, not a trace of emotion revealed on his face.

"Want a beer?" When he just shrugs, she pushes him towards the living room and heads for the kitchen, tossing her heels off along the way. "We can share," she tells him, returning with a bottle and curling up next to him on the couch.

He's still looking lost in thought, frowning as he stares at the blank television screen.

"Mike?" she asks gently, hand on his knee. "You tired or something?"

He sighs, and turns to look at her, all radiant twenty-six-years of her.

"So, Vince, huh?" She winces at the memory, shaking her head in embarrassment. "Isn't he like the new hip thing?"

"I guess," she shrugs. "Cara went to one of his concerts. I don't know, we were a little busy this summer making baseball history, remember?" She grins and leans in for a kiss, but he turns away from her and she freezes, entire body going numb at the rejection.

"What? Did I- did I do something wrong?" She hates that her bottom lip trembles, that her stomach just seems to fall out of her, that the walls seem to be closing in. How is it that she took the biggest chance on him and they've ruined it barely a month in?

"No!" he exclaims, turning her way quickly when he hears her words. "No, no, I-" He tugs her closer in his arms, wraps an arm around her waist as he struggles to find the words. "You didn't do anything. It's all me."

"I told him no," she reminds him. "Obviously. You were there. I don't wanna go out with him."

"Ginny," Mike sighs, feeling ancient as he meets her eyes, his hand rubbing at her cheek gently. "I am way too old for you."

Her eyes widen at the confession, face scrunching up in confusion as if this is a new revelation. She opens her mouth, but he raises a hand to stop her.

"Let me finish," he says, sighing again because this is going to be the most heartbreaking conversation of his life, telling her that she deserves so much better than a beat up, old, retired baseball player with a slew of abandonment, daddy, and trust issues.

"I just-" He winces and begins again, gathering his thoughts. "I know we stepped into this, the emotions of the Series and my retirement, but... you are _twenty-six_ years old. And beautiful," he adds, watching her give him the smallest of smiles at the compliment. "Just beautiful. You should be out there with the Vinces of the world, someone your own age, someone you can have fun with. I'm.... I'm thirty-eight," he grimaces. "I just ended my career, broken down back, a shit ton of emotional issues. You have no idea what you're getting into."

Ginny simply stares at him, her head tilted as she looks at him in wonder, a serene expression on her face.

"Well?" he snaps. "Say something."

She moves forward, her hands tangling in his hair and pulling him close, her lips meeting his in a tender brush of skin, then deeper, back and forth, back and forth, until he has no choice but to kiss her back.

"You are so cute," she murmurs. And she's grinning against his mouth, and it's pissing him off.

"Yeah, I'm fucking adorable," he counters, as he gently pushes her away, tries to ignore her swollen lips and messy hair, the way her breasts heave with every panting breath. "Did you hear anything I said?"

She nods, and moves closer to him on the couch, until she's settled into the crook of his arm. "Yeah, I heard. And it makes no sense."

"Excuse me?" Mike can't help the sudden high pitch of his voice, his thoughtful sacrifice being mocked.

"First off, yes, you're old, but that's in baseball years. Thirty-eight is fine in the real world."

Mike barely has time to huff out a breath of laughter in disbelief before she's continuing on.

"Second, aren't old guys supposed to love having young eye candy on their arm? Like, all those sixty-year-olds marrying girls their daughters’ ages?"

Mike makes a face. "Okay, that's gross."

"Yeah, it is, so good thing you're not sixty," she teases, straddling him so she can get closer and wrap her arms around him, kissing him again and rolling her entire body into his. "Plus, you're one to talk."

"Me?" Mike points at himself in disbelief, even as he's aware his hands are clutching her waist, not wanting to let her go - not for this conversation, not for tonight, not ever. "I have no idea what-"

"Oh, stop it. All the ladies throwing themselves at you. I saw the blonde bartender flirting with you." Ginny raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to argue. "Exactly. So why is it okay if you have sex with some twenty-year-old groupie, but not be with me?"

Mike shakes his head at the question, floundering to get the conversation back on track. "I'm not talking sex, I'm talking-"

"Yeah, you're talking us," she tells him softly, watching him quiet immediately and stare at her intensely as she holds his hand and squeezes it. "You and me. Right? Whatever we've been fighting for the last two years.” She takes a deep breath as if to fortify her nerves. “Since that night outside the bar. You nailed my cleats, remember?"

Mike just nods at her, hypnotized, breathing heavily.

"You really think I haven't thought about this? Over and over again, to the brink of _many_ panic attacks, all the risks and scenarios and press coverage and-" She sighs, shakes her head at herself and looks back at him with a shaky smile. "I have. If I didn't want to be here, with you, I wouldn't. This is what I want."

"I mean," she hesitates, bites her lower lip then begins again, "does it bother you that I'm younger? Maybe you want someone older, or you want your ex-"

"No," Mike interrupts, his voice firm as his hands tighten around her waist. "No. Come on, Ginny, you know that's over and done with. Never again." He takes a deep breath. "Just you. Since that night outside the bar. I nailed your cleats, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," she tells him, her smile lighting up the room, but his vision is clouded as she bends to kiss him again. Her mouth opens on his and he takes the invitation, rubbing his tongue against hers, making all his feelings known, even the ones he doesn't want to share quite yet. But he can mean it when he kisses her, he can pour in every hidden feeling, and he does.

"I just want you to be sure," he tells her quietly. "I don't want you to have regrets."

"No regrets," she answers simply, forehead resting against his as she breathes in the same air he exhales. "Plus," she adds with a dry laugh, "you think you're the only one with emotional baggage? I've got a lost childhood dedicated to baseball thanks to my dead dad, a fear of driving because of the car accident that killed him, a cheating mother, a-"

"Stop," he tells her, covering her mouth with his, hands in her hair as he gently maneuvers them to lay her down on the couch. He hovers over her, balancing his weight on his arms, kissing her over and over again as if to ease her worries. "Stop. Hey, you're perfect just the way you are. I wouldn't want anything different."

"So sweet," she teases. "Such a sweetheart."

"Shut up," he mutters, even as his mouth is busy against hers, his hands sliding down her body to the hem of her dress. "I was trying to be respectful and shit."

She giggles. "Well, it was respectful. So, I guess I'll put up with your dorky Star Wars references and you can put up with my amazing taste in music."

"More like the other way around," he teases, letting her finish unbuttoning his shirt and run her hands up and down his broad chest. Yeah, the way she looks at him like that, eyes darkening with desire, it always makes him feel ten years younger. "Star Wars is cool again and your shit taste in music never will be."

She just laughs, wraps her legs around him and brings him in close, smirking at the groan he lets out. "So, we're good? You and me?"

He nods. "You're young, I'm old, together we're hot as hell, I got it."

Ginny continues to laugh, turning it into a moan as he kisses down her neckline. She tugs his head back up, looking deep into his eyes. "Really? No more you being insecure about your age?"

"Not tonight at least," he tells her with a grin. "I'm the one who gave you an out. You missed your chance."

"Well, you can remind me again what great shape you're in for a guy your age... in the bedroom." She pushes him up, grabs his hand to lead him down the short hallway to her room. Stopping outside, she grabs his hand to place it at the hidden zipper at her side, both of them tugging it down together. She watches his eyes widen at every inch of skin revealed, her curves and muscles on display in just a tiny, white lace strapless bra and panties. She steps out of the dress, leans against him as she wraps her arms around his neck.

"How old do you feel right now?" she murmurs cheekily, brushing her hips right against his hard on as she whispers the question in his ear.

"Sixteen and horny as hell," he mutters, capturing her lips and grabbing her thighs to pull her closer, maneuvering them both to the bed so they fall down in a heap of tangled limbs. "Let me prove it to you, but with the finesse of an older man."

Ginny laughs, slapping his bare chest in amusement and he chuckles too, right before he leans down to kiss her, planning to keep her occupied the rest of the night. He might be older but he knows exactly where his strengths lie and he’s never had anything but praise in the bedroom. Even a younger man couldn’t compete with Mike Lawson there.

And he’s gonna continue proving it to Ginny as long as she lets him. Hopefully forever.


	11. 2018 sports fans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Ginny on a street corner again... reminiscent of that night outside Boardner's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still have more of these, sorry for the delay! Leave some love if you enjoyed it! xoxo
> 
> This one is set before they're together, the year of... in my head I imagine them getting together 2 years later which would be 2018. :D

She knows it's part of the job, but _god,_ she hates sports fans. Especially the young, drunk, white male kind.   
  
"Hey, hey! I know you!"   
  
Ginny thinks about ignoring him altogether but people are already turning her way and the bartender is at the other end of the bar, so she just nods at the guys on the bar stools who are trying to get her attention.    
  
"Hi."   
  
"Yeah, you're that girl Padre! Jenny, right?" The blonde guy turns and focuses all his attention on her, his eyes glazed from alcohol but his voice purposeful. "Yeah, yeah, we watch your games at our frat house." He gestures toward his fraternity brothers behind him, a few playing darts and looking uninterested, but another few leaning over to look curiously at the celebrity they've stumbled upon.    
  
"It's Ginny," she corrects, then shakes her head at herself, because she really doesn't want to prolong this conversation any longer than she has to. "Thanks for being a fan." She signals at the bartender one last time in agitation before she's about to leave and send one of the guys over.    
  
"Oh, yeah, we're big fans," the guy says, and it's said just sleazy enough to make Ginny brace herself for whatever sexist-slash-racist comment is coming next. "But didn't recognize you with a shirt on."   
  
And there it is.    
  
Ginny grits her teeth and turns on her heel, knowing her face is flaming red and hating herself for it. Hates how two years later, whenever she thinks about the leaked pics she still gets furious, gets embarrassed. Yet she's sure at least half a dozen guys on the team have had their dick pics released yet no one bats an eye. But if it's a pair of female breasts, the whole world has to remember forever.    
  
She makes it one step down the aisle before the guy is front of her, leering down at her.    
  
"Move. Now. Or I'll get security."   
  
"Oh come on now, you're a Padre. Don't you owe it to your fans to take a picture? In fact, let me pull up my favorite one of you." He winks at her as he reaches for his phone. When she hurries to step around him, he blocks her path. "No, no, let me show you. Inspire you to leak some more this season."   
  
She's still deciding between her options - pushing him away (way too risky, she's small for her size after all) or yelling for security, and lamenting that the one time she left her phone at the table instead of in her back pocket, this happens. She takes a deep breath and-   
  
Before she can decide, Mike is at her side. She relaxes immediately when she feels his presence, even though they're not touching. He's just close enough to hover over her like he always does, his big frame unconsciously guarding her and making her feel safe.    
  
"Baker, what's taking so long?"   
  
"Oh, hey, you're the captain, right? I tell you, you guys must love having her in the locker room. What a rack."   
  
It's a testament to the power of alcohol that the guy dares to say all this to Mike, who easily has at least three inches and seventy pounds on him. Not to mention the fucking glare on his face.    
  
"Baker, get out of the way."   
  
"Mike," Ginny begins, tugging at his elbow where he resolutely has his arms crossed as he stares down the man who had spoken. "Forget it. Let's go back to our seats."   
  
"I said get out of the way," he repeats. He moves her aside firmly enough that she has no choice but to stumble back a few steps as he takes her place in front of the offender. "Now, you want me to kick your ass here, or outside?"   
  
The man seems to pale, finally seeming to realize the situation he's gotten himself into but having caused enough of a scene that there's no way out. Before he can say anything, Ginny mutters a curse as a few other Padres arrive join them.    
  
"Hey, what's goin' on?" Nick asks.    
  
"Who'd old man Lawson offend now?" Sonny jokes as he looks between the men.    
  
"I didn't offend anyone," Mike replies, rolling up his shirt sleeves slowly, not caring that people at nearby tables have their camera phones out and have forgotten all about their dinner. "This young man here was just about to apologize to our teammate Ginny, wasn't he?"   
  
Ginny sighs and tries again to shove him aside. But he's built like a rock, all muscle, and barely budges. "Seriously, it's not worth it."   
  
"On the contrary, Baker, we do think you're worth it." He nods at his other teammates who suddenly circle around them, partly to see the fight and also to block some cameras. "Still waiting for that apology, asshole."   
  
Alcohol wins again and the blonde just looks from Ginny to Mike, and back again, shaking his head defiantly. "I'd say fuck you but I'd rather fuck her."   
  
It's a mess of a commotion, the stark sound of someone's hand punching someone's face, loud yells and "ooh"s and more sounds, until finally Mike's opponent falls to the ground and stays there. When the guy struggles to get back up and head toward Mike, tries to get a last hit in, Mike launches a punch to his stomach, knocking him to the ground. Mike looks barely winded as he steps over the younger guy's crumpled body on the floor, moving towards the manager who frantically hurries toward them. Mike greets him with a casual nod.    
  
"I left more than enough to cover our bill and the tip. We'll see ourselves out."   
  
And with that, they file out of the restaurant, Ginny right behind Mike as she looks back over her shoulder at the guy still on the floor cradling his nose, surrounded by his sympathetic friends.    
  
She nearly runs into Mike when they're exiting the restaurant, stumbles on the step in her heels, but he's there to catch her, grabbing her hand so she's pulled against him.    
  
"You okay?" he murmurs quietly, his voice low to match the time of night. It sounds surprisingly intimate under the soft glow of the streetlight.   
  
"Yes, yeah." She nods frantically. "He wasn't- he didn't do anything."   
  
"He did enough," Mike scoffs, rubbing at his jaw absentmindedly, wincing.    
  
"Oh no, he got you!" Ginny drops his hand and moves forward, standing on her tiptoes to look at his face. She can't make out a bruise or anything, what with that beard in the way, so she just gently runs a hand on his chin. "Are you okay?"   
  
Mike just nods, his eyes locked on hers, and she holds her breath, suddenly realizing how close she's standing and how alone the two of them are, the other guys standing in a huddle further down, already checking social media for any buzz they've made.    
  
"I'm fine. He barely got a decent shot in."   
  
She just nods, and pulls her hand away, tries not to commit to memory how that beard felt against her fingertips. "You didn't have to."   
  
"I know. But it might be my last year, Baker, if I don't win a few fights, how am I gonna retire in a blaze of glory?"   
  
She snorts and rolls her eyes. "Um, maybe by leading us to playoffs?"   
  
"Yeah," he shrugs, "we'll do that too, on the field. This is off the field."   
  
"He might sue."   
  
"He won't."   
  
"How do you know?" she asks.   
  
"Because they never do. They'll just crawl into a ball of embarrassment and if we're lucky, think twice before harassing the next lady."   
  
Ginny just sighs. "Well, you still didn't have to."   
  
He just shrugs, looks away from her to the quiet street corner they're waiting on. "It's late, you should call for your ride. I'll wait."   
  
She nods and does just that, then tries not to shiver at a gust of cold air. It is late at night, and summer's nearly over and she loves what that means, that they're still in the running and are alive, that their season isn't over yet. The possibility of victory is still in the air.    
  
Mike could still get his dream, could still get his ring before he leaves. She wants it for him so bad, more than she thinks she even wants it for herself. She tries not to think too hard about what that means. Tries not to hope that maybe he'll have another year in him, and then another and another so she doesn't have to play this game she loves without him, so he doesn't have to give up what he loves either.    
  
Now that's just wishful thinking.    
  
She shifts when Mike's leather jacket falls on her shoulders, turning to look at him in surprise.    
  
"You looked cold," is all he says.    
  
She nods and just burrows herself into the jacket, reminding herself not to wear any sleeveless dresses when out this late at night. She can feel his body heat in the jacket and she tugs it more firmly around her, pretends she doesn't notice the flicker of something territorial in his eyes.    
  
When her car arrives, he walks her to it. She goes to take off the jacket and he waves a hand at her.    
  
"Keep it. Give it to me tomorrow."   
  
She just nods, wraps it around her tighter as she stares up at him. She's getting a sense of déjà vu, and maybe by the look in his eyes, he is too. A waiting car, a dark street corner, standing a little too close to be just teammates...   
  
___Ginny. I nailed your cleats._   
  
_I knew you did!_   
  
"Thanks for defending my honor."   
  
He smirks. "Yeah, that's me, your aging white knight."   
  
"Don't joke, Lawson, I was being serious," she tells him.   
  
He just nods and opens the door for her. "G'night."   
  
Before she can stop herself, and oh, it's getting so much harder to stop herself these days, she leans up and plants a kiss on his cheek. It happens so quick, before she can talk herself out of it and Mike blinks at her as if maybe he imagined the whole thing. But he touches his cheek for a millisecond, his eyes locked on hers.    
  
"Call me later?" she asks as she turns and gets into the car. It's been happening more frequently, all season now. The late night phone conversations, calling each other for no reason except they want to talk to each other on their day off or even _after_ spending the day together. That should really be worrisome, that they can't get enough of each other.    
  
It's Mike's last year, or so she thinks, he hasn't confirmed it yet and she can't bear to ask him point blank. The season is so close to finishing, all depending on how playoffs go. The air is alive with anticipation every time she and Mike are alone together, the crackle of possibility just waiting to be taken advantage of. It feels more and more like it's not about _if_ it'll happen, but more like _when_ it finally will.    
  
"I'll call you," Mike answers as he closes the door for her, as he watches her through the window like she's what he's been working so hard for all year, all his life. Sometimes, the way he looks at her, that's exactly how it feels.    
  
She sneaks a peek over her shoulder when the car turns the corner and sees him still standing there staring after her.


End file.
